


Preservation

by RobertCop3



Category: Fatal Fury, King of Fighters
Genre: Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-06-05 10:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15168746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobertCop3/pseuds/RobertCop3
Summary: Long before the events of both Fatal Fury and King of Fighters, before some characters in the series were even born, Mai Shiranui's grandfather joined forces with an American named Jeffrey Bogard, in order to right a wrong committed against his clan. This is their story.EDIT: Reposted as of 09/10/2018. Made a minor edit after reading a helpful review on fanfiction.net.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> When researching my other Fatal Fury fanfics, the only other thing I saw on the SNK wiki article for Hanzo Shiranui was that at some point before the events of the first Fatal Fury game, he and Jeff Bogard teamed up to fight Wolfgang Krauser for reasons that are unknown. As usual, I'm inspired more by the anime timeline and not the video games, so when I came up with the idea for this story, I bore the following in mind:
> 
> -In the OVAs, Wolfgang is at least ten years younger than he is in the video games, and also he doesn't have the X-shaped scar on his forehead;  
> -All the research I've done shows that Geese Howard is older than Wolfgang Krauser, and also it isn't clear just how old Wolfgang is by the time of the Fatal Fury 2 OVA. The SNK wiki does not list his age, in either the video games or the animes.
> 
> With that in mind, I took a few liberties with the SNK Wiki article, so in my story, Hanzo and Jeff fight Wolfgang's father, Rudolph, instead. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games, or the anime.

**Mino, Japan – The Shiranui Dojo – August 1 st, 1993**

****The sounds and smells of a balmy summer day drifted in through the open window of the kitchen, perfectly matching the mood of the bouncy ninja girl who was busy preparing the mid-day meal. Mai Shiranui found herself singing softly as she worked, some song performed in English that she had heard on her recent trip abroad (if she remembered correctly, the name of the song was “Linger,” and the artists called themselves the Cranberries).

She didn't remember all the lyrics, but she remembered the most important ones, so she simply simply sang what she knew, and as she went along, she tried to fill in the blanks with the words she didn't know. Mai really didn't care if it was one-hundred percent accurate. She wanted to sing this song, even if she couldn't remember all the words, because it fit her current mood to a T.

The last few weeks had been a little hectic, but life was starting to return to normal now. Terry Bogard had gotten over his drinking problem, and managed to conquer his fears by facing and defeating Krauser. Joe Higashi was mending nicely across the ocean in South Town General Hospital, and if all went well, he would be cleared for travel in another month or two so he could complete his physical therapy in Tokyo. But most important, Mai was back in Japan with the man she loved, Terry's brother Andy Bogard, and they were finally in a relationship together. Of sorts. She and Andy still weren't what Mai would consider a “real couple,” but they were getting there. Slowly but surely...

Mai was working at the kitchen counter with a large wooden bowl full of cooked sushi rice, slowly stirring in vinegar as she flapped one of her fans over the bowl to help the rice cool more evenly. She paused in this action to gaze out the kitchen window, admiring the cloudless blue sky that stretched like a sapphire blanket towards the mountains on the horizon.

 _It really is a perfect day,_ she thought as she got back to fanning the rice. _Well, almost perfect._ The only thing missing was that Andy was not here, with her, at her family's dojo, and instead had gone back to the Yamada dojo after they had landed in Haneda Airport last night. Mai had asked him to come with her, and say hello to her grandfather, since Andy had not seen him since the night he had left Japan to reunite with Terry in America and fight Geese Howard. Andy, however, had quickly said that he had fallen behind in his training after his most recent loss to Terry, and needed to redouble his efforts as soon as possible to get back to the level he'd been at before Terry had wounded him in the cemetery.

And that was that. Mai sensed there was another reason Andy didn't want to see Hanzo, but she didn't feel like pushing it. After their recent heart to heart chat, Mai was determined to be there for Andy, but also to take things at whatever pace Andy wanted to take them. She did not want to come on too strongly, and scare Andy off so soon after getting him back into her life.

 _Well, I'll give him a week to get settled back in, then maybe I'll pay him a visit, and perhaps we can spend a little time together._ Yes. The thought of that gave Mai extra vigor as she finished preparing lunch for her and her grandfather. She snapped her fan shut, and dropped it back into the sleeve of her yukata. Then she transferred the now room-temperature rice to a ceramic serving bowl, and dusted it with some black and white sesame seeds. She then assembled both that and everything else she'd made onto a large, sturdy wooden tray, picked it up and headed towards the door leading out to the courtyard, using her ninja skills to perfectly balance the heavy tray on the fingertips of her left hand.

It was not as humid as it had been for most of the summer, but it was still hot out, so Mai had fixed them a cold lunch: fresh tekkamaki rolls with a side of extra rice, and some chilled pickled cabbage. The only hot thing on the menu was the tea she had brewed, but Mai had thoughtfully added a pitcher of ice water to the tray, in case they needed a cooler drink.

She found her grandfather in the side yard, under the shade of the big red pine that was probably older than the dojo itself, kneeling at a small table and writing letters to some of his old colleagues.

“Hirigohan dayo!” Mai half-shouted, half-sang as she crossed the grassy yard to where Hanzo Shiranui was working. Hanzo looked up from his writing and smiled as he saw his granddaughter approaching.

“Domo, Mai-chan,” the old man said with a nod as he moved his letters off to the side, allowing Mai to kneel down on the opposite end of the table and set the tray between them. She took a moment to smooth out the skirt of her pink yukata, then she started to serve the meal.

“Are they spicy?” Hanzo asked as he looked the maki rolls over, his gray eyes shining with a glint of hope.

“Now, Ojisama,” Mai said sternly as she poured their tea. “You know the doctor said you shouldn't be eating spicy food.”

“Hmph.” The old master gave a small grunt of indignation. “I have served in war, and fought honor duels to the death. I may be old, but I think I can still handle my spicy tuna.”

“Well,” Mai told him. “I do the cooking, so we eat what I make. If _you_ ever feel like working in the kitchen, we'll eat what _you_ want.”

“That sounds exactly like something your grandmother would have told me,” Hanzo said, and the two of them laughed. Hanzo then snatched a sliver of the pickled cabbage from its serving dish, and popped it into his mouth. “Well, at least I can still eat tsukemono. The day my doctor says I can't have _that_ , I'll know he's a quack.”

Mai laughed again, knowing that the pickled vegetables were one of her grandfather's favorite foods. After she had served him, she finished fixing her own plate, and for a while the two of them were silent as they ate. Then Mai pointed her chopsticks at the stack of letters and said to him: “I have to go into town to do some shopping tomorrow. If you want, I can stop by the Yubinyoku and mail those for you.”

“I appreciate that, Mai-chan,” Hanzo said with a polite nod. There was another moment of silence. Then he said to her: “So, your life has gotten a little more exciting lately. What was supposed to be a simple surprise visit to my friend's dojo to welcome my deshi back to Nippon turned into an adventure. When you arrived home late last night you just went straight to bed after checking in on me. Now that you've had a chance to rest from your journey, would you care to finally elaborate on what you've been up to?”

Mai couldn't help but smirk. Despite her training from the women of her clan in the ways of the kunoichi, she still was unable to keep any secrets from her grandfather. “It was an interesting trip, Ojisama.” Mai then proceeded to tell Hanzo all about it.

Hanzo simply listened, and after Mai had finished the story, he was silent for a time. Then he remarked: “So, he managed to counter the Demon's finishing move with a Ku Ha Dan?” Hanzo gave a chuckle. “Jubei-san failed to mention that to me. Not that I blame him. He's taken to getting old less gracefully than I have. Still, that was an impressive move. I don't remember teaching Andy that. In fact, I can't recall anyone so young mastering that technique.”

“Yes, Andy has made a lot of progress on his own in the last year,” Mai responded. “And... I've also told him how I feel about him, even though I still don't know how he feels about _me_. And it's so hard to read him, too.”

Hanzo raised a hand. “Now, Mai-chan,” he said. “Andy was and still is one of my most brilliant students. He was committed to his goal, and was willing to do everything that I required, and more. He always put in three times the effort I expected from him. But he failed in one area. I still don't know if it's because I failed to properly teach him this lesson, or because he was simply unwilling to learn it, but: he was _too_ committed, to the point where he believed that physical strength and skill were all it took to make a great fighter, so he neglected his emotional growth, choosing to bury his feelings deep down inside. He never saw that a true warrior must also master their emotions, not to shut them off, but to be in tune with them, so they are perfectly balanced. He is only now starting to realize his mistake.

“It's a fine line you must tread, Mai-chan. I know you want to be with him, now that he has returned, but you must also try to keep some distance. Andy's feelings are his, and his alone. Only he can unravel and work through them, and he must do so at his own pace. So be patient with him. Someday, he'll reach the emotional state where he will know what he wants from life... and who he wants to be with.”

“Wakari masu, Ojisama,” Mai said with a small bow of her head. Hanzo bowed in return, then looked down at his plate and resumed eating. Mai gazed thoughtfully at him, wondering if the old master had figured out that Mai's fondest wish was for Andy to someday marry her. She had not yet told her grandfather what her heart desired. He knew Mai felt an affection for Andy, but did he know just how deep it ran?

After a few moments, she too resumed eating, though Hanzo noticed that she was moving the last few rolls on her plate around more than she was eating them. “Don't spend too much time dwelling on it, child. I told you, it's Andy's struggle.”

“No, I'm not still thinking about that, Ojisama,” Mai said absently. “Just wondering if I even did any good on that trip. Jubei-sensei instructed me to go with Andy to Germany to stop him from fighting Krauser, but Krauser wasn't even there. So I feel like I didn't serve any useful purpose, other than to bring shame to both myself, and to the Shiranui school when I got captured and held prisoner by Krauser's right hand. I feel like I failed you.”

“Failure is only absolute if it gets us killed,” Hanzo reminded her. “If you live through it, that's half the battle. The other half is learning from it so we do not fail again. Did you learn from your failure?”

Mai nodded slowly, her gaze still on her plate. “Hai, Ojisama,” she answered.

“What did you learn?”

Mai took a breath. She’d been pondering this question ever since she got back, as she knew her grandfather would ask it. After a moment she said: “I’ve learned that I need to focus better in a fight, to be more attuned to my surroundings so I can hear when an enemy approaches, even if I can't see them. And also I need to find a way to concentrate more fire into my Ryu En Bu attack.”

“Those are good lessons,” said Hanzo. “Also, when you were this man's prisoner, did you tell him anything?”

Mai shook her head, her brown eyes suddenly shining with deep resolve. “No. He tried to get me to talk, but I'll never betray my friends.”

Hanzo nodded his head. “Your honor was tested for the first time in your life, and it sounds like you passed that test. So you returned a stronger fighter than you were when you left. And hopefully more focused, as well.”

“I’m still not sure what good I did while I was there,” said Mai.

“It sounds like you did enough. You helped your friends when they needed it, by tending to the wounded. Remember that I taught you just as much about healing as I did about how to inflict injury.”

Mai allowed her expression to soften, and looked up at her grandfather. “I guess you’re right, Ojisama,” she said. _And besides, this trip got Andy to realize he feels something for me that’s stronger than friendship._ Her appetite renewed, Mai snatched up another roll with her chopsticks and popped it in her mouth.

“I know I’m right,” Hanzo said with a chuckle. “Besides, after you took off, Jubei-san came down here to keep me company while you were away, and during his visit, he explained to me why he sent you with Andy. I agreed with his logic. Based on your description of what Krauser did to your friend Higashi-san, he was much stronger than his father. In which case, Andy was not ready to face him, despite how much he might have progressed since we last saw each other. I speak from personal experience.”

Mai sat up a bit straighter on the grass. She was trying to figure out just how her grandfather would know anything about Krauser. The only thing she could think of was that Hanzo had heard the same stories as Jubei. “What do you mean, Ojisama? How do you know?”

“About twenty years ago, shortly before you were born,” Hanzo explained. “I faced Wolfgang-kun's father, Rudolph Krauser, in battle. I was assisted by Bogard-Jeffrey-san.”

The ninja girl’s dark brown eyes opened wide in shock. “You never told me you knew Andy's father!”

The aging master nodded. “I'm surprised I haven't told you. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to take Andy on as an apprentice after Jeffrey-san was murdered. You're sure you haven't heard this story?”

“No, Ojisama,” said Mai. Her grandfather had told her many stories about his past, but Mai would definitely have remembered one involving Jeff Bogard.

Hanzo settled back against the trunk of the red pine, resting his back on the cushion Mai had provided when he'd first come outside. “Perhaps I should rectify that now,” he said.

Mai nodded as she refilled both their tea cups. “Please, grandfather? I’d like to hear it.”

Hanzo smiled and picked up his cup. “Like I said, it was very shortly before you were born...” Mai leaned forward slightly, chin resting on her hands, listening with rapt attention as Hanzo told his tale...

* * *

* * *

 

**Twenty Years Earlier – December 19 th, 1973**

****“Do you really need to leave now?” Tadatsugu Shiranui asked his father as the two of them made their way down the hall towards the door leading outside to the training yard. “You had promised to be here for the birth of our firstborn, which the doctor says could either be tomorrow... or in a few weeks.”

Hanzo Shiranui stopped in his rapid walking down the corridor, and turned to face Tadatsugu. The elder ninja was dressed for winter travel, in a dark blue wool hakama and tunic (with a thermal shirt underneath), and a heavy brown haori draped over his shoulders. His jet black hair, which was starting to gray around the temples, was pulled into a more modern version of the chonmage, more modern because the top of his head was not shaved. The dark gray eyes above his sharp, hatchet nose regarded his son with a look that bordered on sorrow, mixed with a stern resolve.

“Believe me,” Hanzo said. “No one understands the gravity of a promise better than I do. But you know what has recently transpired under our roof. And the longer I wait on this matter, the greater the potential threat against all of us, including your unborn daughter. I must find this thief before his trail gets too cold. If the rest of our clan learns of what he took, and that I waited so long before acting upon it, they may begin to question my leadership.”

Tadat shook his head. “Please. You know that if they found out about this theft, they would spend even longer deliberating over the best course of action.”

“All the more reason I must act now,” said Hanzo. “But I have told you that I will not be going alone.”

“Yes, I know that Tung-san's star pupil will be meeting you,” Tadat said with a sigh. “But I don't see why it shouldn't be _me_ fighting with you.”

“When I was younger than you are now, still just a foolish, headstrong private in the Dai-Nippon Taikoku Rikugun, I might have said the same thing,” Hanzo replied. “But no. Your place is here, in case your little one does arrive while I'm gone.”

Tadatsugu stared hard into Hanzo's steel-gray eyes. Then he blew out a sharp breath. “This would be easier to accept, if I knew exactly what this thief had taken that was so important.”

Hanzo placed both hands on Tadat's shoulders. “When the time is right, you will know. But time is finite for every man, and now, I must move before it runs out.” With that, he started back up the corridor and made his way outside.

A half dozen students were seated in various positions on the hard winter soil of the practice field, doing their best to ignore the December chill in their training dogi, when Hanzo and his son emerged. As soon as the students saw the master making his way towards them, they stood and went rigid, hands at their sides.

Hanzo stopped a few paces from the group, regarded them with a gaze as sharp as flint, and cleared his throat. “I regret, my senpai, that I must leave temporarily on an urgent matter that requires my attention. I hope to be back within a week.” He gestured to Tadatsugu, who stood alongside him. “In the meantime, Tadat-sensei is in charge. You are to obey his word as if it were mine. Is that understood?”

Moving as one, the six youths bowed their heads respectfully and shouted, _“Hai, sensei!”_

Hanzo turned his gaze to his son. “They're all yours,” he said with a smirk.

Tadatsugu gave him a hard look, then, a look that said there many things he still wanted to ask, but he'd learned as a boy never to question Hanzo about family matters in front of students. Instead, he simply gave a silent nod. Then he turned to the assembled youths and spoke in his sternest voice: “Now then, after we've all warmed up a little by running a few laps around the field, which one of you sprouts can tell me where Hanzo-sensei left off?”

Hanzo left him to it, and made his way back inside. He knew that his daughter-in-law was resting in her room, and the elder ninjitsu master decided not to disturb her. He had already told her before she went to lie down that he had to take a trip, and she had taken the news harder than Tadatsugu had. She seemed to think he was putting his loyalty to the Shiranui clan over his love for his family, which was a logical assumption for her to make. Someday, when she wasn't burdened with the stress of her impending delivery, Hanzo would explain that his love for her and Tadat, and for his granddaughter, was the reason he was undertaking this mission. Someday...

His travel bag was in the foyer by the front door. As he lifted the bag and shouldered it, he heard a voice from behind him: “Sneaking out on me without saying goodbye again, shujin? Typical ninja.”

Hanzo turned, and smiled at his wife. She was about his age (maybe a few years younger), dressed in a dark green kimono with a silver obi, her face slightly careworn from the hassle of raising a child like Tadatsugu (the boy had been a handful when he was smaller), her salt and pepper hair pulled back into a bun that was held in place with an ornamental hairpin carved from whale bone. The pin had been a gift from her mother shortly before the woman had passed, and she had received it from _her_ mother, and so on back down through the family tree, so no one really knew how old it was.

Hanzo approached her, and took both her hands in his. “I'm hardly typical, Saiai-chan,” he said with a chuckle.

“Indeed,” Saiai Shiranui said with a small nod. “That's why I love you.” Her expression turned a bit more serious, then. “I spoke to Kasai-chan shortly after you did. She was still upset by the news, but I managed to calm her down a bit. I understand why you must go. I just wish the timing had been better.”

“Ninja must always be ready to expect the unexpected,” Hanzo said, as he gently stroked the knuckles on his wife's hands.

“I know. But that doesn't make it any easier. Still, I knew what I was getting into all those years ago, just as I'm sure Kasai knew when she married our son.” Saiai flicked her brown eyes at the bag over Hanzo's shoulder. “I wrapped some steamed gyoza in foil for you, and stuck them in your bag, in case you get hungry on the train.”

Hanzo smiled at her again. His wife knew all too well of his tendency to get peckish when he was traveling. “Domo, omae. But speaking of trains, I have to leave now, so I can catch the next one to Tokyo. I'll return as soon as I can.” He kissed her tenderly, then started towards the doorway.

“Ki o tsukete,” he heard his wife call after him.

“Fudan,” Hanzo said over his shoulder, and then opened the door to the cold December afternoon, and started towards the long staircase that led down to his waiting cab. As he walked, Hanzo allowed his memory to drift back to the phone conversation he'd had last night, shortly after learning of the theft that had taken place under his roof.

* * *

_“Forgive me, my friend,” Tung Fu Rue said, his voice sounding tinny over the phone. “I'm afraid it's my fault that he snuck into your home and stole from you.”_

_“Unless this Geese Howard acted on your orders, I don't see how it is your fault,” Hanzo replied grimly. The middle-aged ninjitsu master was seated in his study, clutching the receiver of a rotary telephone that sat on his writing desk. The hour was late in Mino, and everyone else in the house had gone to bed. But over in South Town, the day was just beginning. However, given the tone of his colleague's voice, Hanzo could tell that Tung had suffered a sleepless night._

_“He was my student,” Tung insisted. “Yes, it was only recently that I saw his true intentions, which is why I announced that Jeffrey, and not him, would be the successor to my school. But before that, I trusted him. I took him under my roof and treated him like he was my own blood. Because of the stories I had told him, he knew of the existence of your clan, your dojo, and he surmised that you might have knowledge he could steal. Perhaps if I had noticed the sickness upon his heart, his unwholesome lust for power a little sooner, this might not have...”_

_“Stop that nonsense, Tung-san,” Hanzo cut him off. “You know I have never believed in that old saying that there are no bad students. I have had students come through my door who were so dumb, they could not tell their Atama from their Ushiro, even if you drew them a diagram. I had to throw them out a week later, because training them would have just wasted my time_ and _theirs. I will judge for myself, after I find this Geese Howard, whether the failure was truly yours.”_

_“Still, as I feel responsible, I want to help you. He was my student. He and my star pupil trained closely together. Jeffrey knows how Geese thinks. I want to send him over to you, so he can assist you in your search.”_

_Hanzo knew that it would be an insult to refuse. “Very well, old friend. I would like to accept your offer of assistance. But, I don't think I can wait for him to get here before I set out.”_

_“I knew you would say that,” said Tung. “Which is why I have already put him on a flight to Tokyo. He should be at Haneda Airport tomorrow evening by your time.” Tung then gave him the airline and flight number, which Hanzo hastily jotted down on a piece of note paper._

_“How will I know him when I see him?” Hanzo asked._

_“You'll recognize what he's wearing,” Tung said simply. “Good luck, my friend.” Then there_ _was a_ click _as he hung up._

* * *

**Haneda Airport, Tokyo – December 19 th, 1973**

 

 ****Hanzo sat at a small table in the airport terminal, just outside of the ebb and flow of human traffic, drinking green tea and watching the bustle of people going about their lives: wives and children saying goodbye to husbands and fathers as they got ready to board departing flights, or cheerfully greeting them as they arrived back home; others trying to race to a gate before their flight left without them; porters pushing carts laden with bags of all sizes, moving them to and from connecting flights, or to the baggage claim area.

Hanzo had deliberately traveled light, partially because he hoped that by doing so, fate and/or karma might make his trip shorter. His bag contained only a few changes of clothing, some personal hygiene items, and a few old books to help him pass the time. The only other things he'd brought were some small weapons concealed in the haori he currently wore. He imagined airport security wouldn't be thrilled if they knew Hanzo was armed, but ninja knew many ways of smuggling weapons in a manner to avoid detection, even by electronic devices designed to sense metal. Besides, Hanzo had learned during the war never to draw a weapon unless you also intended to draw blood with it. And right now, the only man Hanzo intended to use them on was probably not in this airport.

The serving girl glided silently up to Hanzo's table, ceramic teapot in one hand, and cleared her throat daintily. Hanzo turned to her and nodded politely as he held out his nearly empty teacup. “Domo,” he said to the girl as she refilled it. Her hands were shaking slightly, causing a few drops to spill onto the table top.

The girl quickly produced a small rag with her other hand and wiped the tabletop clean. “Sumimasen,” she said with a small bow of her head.

“Shinpainaide kudasai,” Hanzo replied, and waved his hand absently. “And when you have a moment, can you please bring me the bill?”

“Haatsu,” the girl said, then turned and walked quickly away. Hanzo smiled sadly as she departed. The poor girl was clearly a little intimidated by him, probably because of the way he was dressed. In the more heavily populated areas of Japan, western fashions were starting to become more popular, particularly among the generation born after the war. Hanzo's attire was now usually seen only on those with a background in fighting, be they war veterans or simply masters of the arts (or in Hanzo's case, both).

His suspicions became stronger a few moments later, when the girl returned with his check, placed it on the table, gave a small bow as quickly as she could without appearing rude, and then shuffled off to tend to another table. In his younger days, such behavior might have amused him. But right now, Hanzo had places to be. As he was finishing the last of the tea in his cup, he heard over the grainy PA system that the flight number Tung had given him last night was arriving. Hanzo made a mental note of the gate, then got up, placed some yen on the tabletop, shouldered his bag, and joined the rush of people that he'd been content to watch only moments ago.

He arrived at the designated gate just as a throng of people began to trickle out of it. Most of them appeared Japanese, so Hanzo reflected that it would probably be easy to spot an American in that crowd, which meant that his question to Tung last night might have been a little foolish.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, he saw a few more natives emerge from the gate, and nestled in between them was a pale-skinned man with black hair and a black mustache, dressed in jeans and a denim jacket, carrying a travel bag slung over one shoulder. Tied around his forehead was a crimson headband, emblazoned with the family crest of Tung's Hakkyokuseiken school.

Hanzo approached the man after the crowd around him had dispersed. “Jeffrey-san?” He asked.

The denim-clad man straightened a little, and then bowed respectfully. “Shiranui-san?” He answered. “Boku Bogard-Jeffrey. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.”

Hanzo raised one of his eyebrows. “You speak Japanese?” He asked in his native language.

“Not as well as my Mandarin,” Jeffrey Bogard replied in kind. “But I know enough to get by.”

“Wǒ hěn pèifú yīgè shuō dōngfāng yǔyán de rén,” Hanzo said to him, in Chinese.

Now it was the American's turn to raise an eyebrow. After a moment, his expression softened, and he began to laugh a little. “You're just what I was expecting, based off Shifu Tung's stories of you,” he said.

“I'll need to have a word with him, then, after this is all over,” Hanzo said with a laugh of his own. Then his expression became more stern. “But for now, we have business to attend to, Jeffrey-san. I'm sure my good friend Tung has told you why he sent you?”

“He gave me some details,” said Jeff. “But do you mind if we discuss this sitting down, Shiranui-san? I could use a hot meal after that flight. While we eat, I'll tell you what I know.”

“While you eat, you mean,” said Hanzo. “I'm not hungry. But please, follow me.”

With that, Hanzo turned and quickly started back into the throng of people. Jeff Bogard shouldered his bag again and did his best to keep up.

* * *

One of the things Hanzo quickly learned about Jeff Bogard was that the man was not picky when it came to food. They sat down in the first restaurant they came across in the terminal and Jeff simply asked for whatever was ready, which turned out to be yakisoba. For a while, the two warriors were silent, Hanzo drinking tea while Jeff tucked into the bowl of fried noodles, pork and shredded vegetables.

Finally, when it looked like the bowl was almost empty, Hanzo cleared his throat. “Now, then, Jeffrey-san, did Tung tell you anything about what transpired under my roof?”

Jeff set his chopsticks down and took a long drink of water from his glass. Then he answered: “Simply that someone snuck into your dojo the night before last, after everyone was in bed, and took something from your study. He accidentally awoke one of your senpai, who was knocked out by the thief, but not before getting a look at the thief's face. Based on his description, it sounds like you were robbed by Geese Howard.”

“Did Tung tell you what the thief took?”

“Only that it was valuable, but not meant for the eyes of anyone who is not of Shiranui blood.”

Hanzo nodded grimly. “I'm afraid that is all you can know. As long as you don't ask any questions about what was stolen, we will get along fine.”

Jeff nodded in return, and then proceeded to tell Hanzo some background on the person he believed they were looking for. He started by saying that Hanzo's student was lucky Geese had been in a hurry to escape, otherwise the senpai would likely be dead. He then told him about how Geese first came to Master Tung's dojo in search of knowledge. At least, that had been his cover story. Geese was aware that Tung had no sons, and was looking for an heir, to whom he could pass on both his dojo, and also the most secret techniques of his Hakkyokuseiken school.

As Hanzo listened, he also sized up his new travel companion. His style of dress was very American, but despite this Jeff Bogard still carried himself with the air of someone who had devoted his life to the path of the warrior. It made him seem much older than he was, which Hanzo estimated was early twenties.

“I take back what I said earlier, Shiranui-san,” Jeff said. “Geese _did_ come to my master's dojo for knowledge, but once Shifu Tung learned what he was planning to use that knowledge for, he realized that Geese could never be his heir. Geese left the dojo in a rage after Shifu Tung broke the news to him.”

“What was his motivation for training?” Hanzo asked.

Jeff then went on to explain that Geese had once told him a little about his past: how Geese and his mother had been abandoned by Geese's father when Geese was a baby, how they had been forced to live in poverty growing up, which affected his mother's health so that she died while Geese was still a young boy. “Geese's father was Rudolph Krauser, Earl of Von Stroheim and head of the royal Von Stroheim family in West Germany,” Jeff told him. “Rudolph apparently left them because he knew his family would never permit a German-American half blood born out of wedlock, whose mother was a commoner to boot, to be accepted into their family. So he returned to Germany without them and married a noble woman instead. His second son, Geese's half-brother Wolfgang Krauser, is heir to their father's lands, title, and fortune. Geese despises them both. He was learning from my shifu in order to someday be strong enough to get revenge on the Von Stroheim family.”

“That is likely why he stole from me,” Hanzo said. “To gain knowledge to use against them. So, you believe that the Von Stroheims could tell us something of his whereabouts?”

“I'd say it's a good bet,” Jeff said with a nod. “And the best lead we have.”

“Then we'll need to find an information kiosk so that we can purchase tickets on the first available flight to West Germany.” Hanzo rose from his seat and reached into the pocket of his haori. Jeff Bogard shook his head as he reached into his jeans pocket for his wallet.

“Please, Shiranui-san,” he said. “My shifu insisted that I pay my own way.”

“Your master has done enough already, putting you on a plane out here,” Hanzo said as he produced some yen from his pocket and placed it on the table. “We may be traveling but I consider you my guest. Besides, money's no object. My clan has enough of it.”

Jeff rose from his chair and gave a respectful bow. “Domo, Shiranui-san,” he said. And with that, the two men shouldered their bags and were off again.

* * *

**Stroheim, West Germany – December 20 th, 1973**

****As it turned out, getting seats on a flight at the last minute was not easy, especially given the time of year. At first, it looked like Jeffrey and Hanzo would have needed to wait a few days before they would have been able to get on a flight to Germany. Then an elderly couple who had tickets to Hamburg overheard their plight. The man had recognized the Shiranui clan crest sewn into the breast of Hanzo's tunic, and recalled a time thirty years earlier in Manchuria, when he was a lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese Army. His platoon had been pinned down in a village surrounded by enemy soldiers, and they were saved at the last minute by another Japanese battalion, several of whom had that same crest sewn into the shoulder of their uniforms. So he had offered Hanzo and Jeff the boarding passes for himself and his wife, saying that they would simply catch the next flight that they could.

After arriving in Hamburg, the two warriors proceeded north by train, and then taxicab, to Stroheim, a small but prosperous village near the coast of the North Sea. They were now proceeding through the cobbled streets of the town via horse-drawn carriage on their way to Mittelbirge Castle.

Though there was no snow on the ground, the village was still brightly decorated for the Christmas holiday. Hanzo did not celebrate Christmas, but he was aware that the German people had a fondness for the “tannenbaum.” As they moved through the streets, Hanzo could see the tall, fresh-smelling evergreens inside the windows of shops, and also in the center of every roundabout they made their way through. Some were decorated with brightly colored glass balls and garlands of popcorn and cranberries, others were festooned with tinsel or glass lanterns with actual candles inside.

Next to him in the carriage, Jeff Bogard looked around at the decorations with hint of longing in his dark brown eyes. Though he had made the decision to embrace the Eastern philosophies when he became Tung's student, Jeff still had fond memories of Christmas from when he was a boy. And he still did his best to honor the sense of fellowship, and showing love for family, that were a part of the season. He hated to be traveling abroad so close to the holiday, but he knew how far back Tung and Hanzo went, and so he would obey his shifu by helping the Koppou-ken master in his task.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jeff stole a glance at Hanzo, noticing how the ninja warrior simply sat there with his hands resting on his lap, looking straight ahead with eyes unblinking, as they left the bright decorations of the village behind and started up the hill towards the castle. Ever since getting on the plane to Hamburg, Hanzo had barely said more than two words to him. He had spent the flight either sleeping, reading, or meditating. He accepted a bag of complimentary peanuts whenever he was asked, which had amused Jeff, largely because the younger man also had a tendency to get hungry easily on long trips. But other than that, Hanzo didn't talk much.

So far, Jeff had managed to avoid letting the silence make him uncomfortable, but now it was too much for him. So he asked: “Is... this your first time in Germany, Shiranui-san?”

“Hai,” Hanzo answered. Though he still looked straight ahead, he studied Jeff's expression out of the very corner of his eyes, and could tell the young American had more questions on the tip of his tongue.

Just as Jeff was about to say something else, Hanzo asked the question for him: “You were asking because of our alliance during the second World War?”

“I... wasn't trying to offend, Shiranui-san,” Jeff quickly said. “Just... we haven't talked much and since I can't ask you about what Geese stole, I need to find other things to talk about.”

Though Hanzo regarded him with a stern eye, inside he was laughing. _I can see why Tung took him in. He reminds me of a young Jubei Yamada, without the sexism._ After a moment, Hanzo answered: “I was about your age when me and several members of my clan enlisted in the Imperial Japanese Army. I never saw action in the Pacific, only in Asia.”

“Even if you had fought Americans, I wouldn't care,” Jeff told him. “My shifu lived through the same time as you. He told me that war can have strange effects on otherwise rational people. At the time, loyalty to country must have seemed rational, because that was easy for young minds to grasp. It doesn't matter what happened between the Axis and the Allies. That was then, this is now. And now, you and I are in the same fight.”

Hanzo laughed, and clapped Jeff on the shoulder. “My friend chose his successor well. And you're right. As a young, foolish boy who loved his homeland, I believed at the time that Hirohito-sama was doing the will of the gods by forming an alliance with Germany and Italy. It was only after the war, when my son was born, that I read about the atrocities that were committed by our European allies. It led me to also regret the way my country's military treated your prisoners of war, just because we had not signed your Geneva Convention. Today... I still love my country, but I believe we are doing ourselves a disservice if we were to isolate our island from the rest of the world. So if you wish to know my impressions of Germany: I think it is a beautiful country that has rebuilt itself well after the war. Once they conquer their division, they can be a great nation, as long as they remember the mistakes of their past.”

“I can see why you and my master became friends,” Jeff told Hanzo. “But I've never learned how. How does a friendship like that form between two men on opposite sides of a war?”

Ahead of them, the quaint, yet somehow ominous structure of Mittelbirge Castle began to loom larger in their field of vision. Despite looking like something out of a fairy tale, the castle still managed to carry an air of foreboding about it. “That will have to wait for another time,” Hanzo said. “We are getting close. Before we arrive: please tell me what you know of the Von Stroheims.”

Jeff sat back in the carriage and steepled his fingers in front of his face. “Only that they're an old house, one of the older ones in Europe, who have been very influential on the world stage down through the centuries. Though they prefer to be anonymous, so much of their work has been done behind the scenes.”

“I've heard the same thing from another old friend of mine,” Hanzo said grimly. “They are very powerful, but they do not flaunt this power openly, which makes them extremely dangerous. We must be cautious. Stay alert.”

Almost as if it could hear and understand their words, the horse pulling their carriage slowed from a steady trot to a more cautious pace as they neared the high, slate gray walls of the castle. To their surprise, they saw that not only was the drawbridge lowered, but the portcullis was raised.

“I see what you mean, Shiranui-san,” Jeff whispered to the ninjitsu master. “I thought getting into the castle would be a problem. This is too easy.”

Hanzo simply grunted in response. A moment later, the carriage came to halt before the lowered drawbridge. Hanzo paid the driver in German marks that he had gotten at the airport through currency exchange. Jeff noticed that he paid the man double what the fare was. “For your time, while you wait for us out here,” Hanzo explained to the driver. “I do not expect this visit to take long, and we will need transportation back to the village.”

“Ja, das ist gut,” the coachman replied as he tucked the money inside his jacket. “I'll wait for you here.” He then got down from the driver's chair and started tending to his horse. Hanzo and Jeff left him to it, then exited the carriage and made their way across the drawbridge.

After passing through the gates, the Japanese master and the American warrior found themselves in a courtyard, which was deserted except for one other person. A beardless youth in his early teens with jet black hair, dressed in the style of a Spanish matador, was practicing a series of moves in the middle of the courtyard, a fighting style that involved both a rapier and a red cape. As Hanzo and Jeff drew near, he paused in his practice and spun to face them, swinging his sword around along with him.

“Is my master expecting you?” The dark-haired boy asked them.

Hanzo bowed politely and answered: “No. But will you please go and ask him if he will speak with us? We are here on urgent business.”

Instead of going off to do as Hanzo asked, the boy shifted into a fighting stance. “I'll decide what's urgent. And as far as I know, my master speaking with an old Jap and his American sidekick isn't urgent.”

“Nevertheless, we must speak with him,” Hanzo calmly replied, clearly non-fazed by the boy's bravado. “Will you go and ask him?”

“And why should I?” The boy practically spat at them.

Jeff Bogard had been trying to stay calm and let Hanzo do the talking, but the sheer disrespect being shown by one so young was starting to gnaw at him. “Because his life may be in danger!” He shouted at the boy. “We might be able to help him!”

“Jeffrey-san!” Hanzo said with a raise of his hand. Then he said to the black-haired boy: “Please excuse my companion. But he does have a point. We carry information that may be crucial to your master's survival. Will you allow us to speak with him?”

“If you can get past me,” the boy said with a sneer, brandishing his rapier menacingly at both of the older men. “See how well you fare against my Bloody Slash!”

 _“LAURENCE!”_ A deep, authoritative voice boomed over the courtyard. The boy turned, and the gazes of both Hanzo and Jeff followed him to the other end of the courtyard. There, standing in the arched doorway leading inside the castle, they saw a tall, impassive-looking man with long purple hair that was turning white, and a short white beard, dressed in a gold breastplate with matching over-sized shoulder guards, and a black cloak. “You may stand aside, Laurence!” He snapped at the black-haired boy. “I will see these gentlemen.”

Without hesitation, the boy sheathed his rapier, and bowed low at the older man. “As you command, my lord,” he said, then stepped to the side with his head still bowed, allowing Hanzo and Jeff to pass. The two warriors approached the lord of the castle cautiously, and Jeff couldn't help but cast a glance over his shoulder. However, he saw that the dark-haired boy had gone back to his practice, as if their altercation had never happened.

When they reached the doorway, Hanzo Shiranui bowed his head, and so Jeff Bogard decided to do the same, though like Hanzo his eyes remained raised, so that they still looked the castle's master in his own eyes. The man casually waved a hand and bid them to rise.

“I must apologize for my protege,” he said. “Centuries ago, his house swore fealty to mine. His loyalty is without question, and he shows much promise as a swordsman. But his arrogance continues to be his greatest weakness.”

“It has the potential to be a dangerous one,” Hanzo said. “I hope for his sake he learns to overcome it.”

The lord of the castle nodded in agreement, then he said to them: “I'm sure you know who I am.” It was not a question.

Both men nodded their heads in return. “We do, Krauser-sama,” Hanzo answered. “I am Shiranui-Hanzo, master of the Shiranui dojo of Japan. My companion here is Bogard-Jeffrey, disciple of the Hakkyokuseiken dojo of South Town, United States. We appreciate you speaking with us.”

Rudolph Krauser nodded, then turned and pushed open the heavy oak doors. “It is cold out here,” he said. “Follow me, and we shall speak in more civilized surroundings.”

Hanzo Shiranui and Jeffrey Bogard followed the man inside. They traveled down plain corridors of slate gray stone which had little decoration to them. Occasionally, they would pass a servant seeing to their duties, who would stand off to the side and bow his head until they passed. Finally, they came to another arched door, which Rudolph pushed open.

The door led into a very cozy-looking study, with a fireplace and several over-sized easy chairs whose frames were made of wood, but whose seats were made of soft plush fabric that looked like they had seen much use. Two of those chairs were occupied by a young boy with purple hair, and an older man (though not yet truly old, as he looked to be somewhere in his early forties). The boy had an ancient-looking tome spread open on his lap, bound in heavy leather, and seemed to be trying to recite passages from it with the help of the older man.

As the door opened, the older man, who was impeccably-dressed, rose and bowed his head. “My lord,” he greeted Rudolph.

“Sebastian,” Rudolph said to the man. “Please take young Wolfgang to the Great Hall and finish his lesson there. I have business with these gentleman.”

“At once, my lord,” Sebastian answered, and then took the heavy leather volume from the purple-haired boy, snapped it shut, and tucked it under one arm. “Please, young master,” he said to the boy. Sebastian started towards the door, then turned and asked his lord: “Do you or your guests desire any refreshment?”

“Some tea, please,” Hanzo answered.

“The same for me,” said Jeff.

“Nothing for me, thank you, Sebastian,” said Rudolph.

“Very well, my lord,” the butler said with another bow, and then continued towards the study door. He paused in the archway, and saw that his pupil, the young boy with purple hair, was still standing by his chair, eyeing Rudolph's guests curiously.

“Young master, please!” Sebastian repeated, holding a hand out to the boy. “You heard your father!”

When the youth still did not move, Rudolph raised his hand and snapped: “Wolfgang!”

This seemed to quell the boy's interest in the current situation, and he quickly said, “Yes, father!” Then marched briskly towards the doorway and followed Sebastian out.

After the door was shut, Rudolph sat down in one of the chairs by the roaring fire, which was slightly larger and looked a little older than the other two. Hanzo took a seat in one of the other chairs, though Jeff allowed himself a brief moment to glance around the study, the “old soul” in him admiring the sheer number of books that filled the cases which were carved into the walls. Finally, just as Hanzo was about to tell him to sit, Jeff took the only other empty chair.

“I was in Manchuria briefly during the war, on 'unofficial business' for the Reich, though in truth House Von Stroheim was secretly helping to orchestrate the downfall of the Axis powers,” Rudolph said to Hanzo. “I had a chance to observe soldiers in your Emperor's military, and was very impressed with the way they fought: ruthlessly, but tempered by a mask of honor and civility. It was quite amusing to watch.”

“I'm glad you seemed to think so,” Hanzo said, keeping his expression neutral. “I myself spent several sleepless nights upon returning home after our surrender, wondering if some of the things I had witnessed my fellow soldiers do in the name of Nippon and Hirohito-sama were truly 'honorable.'”

Rudolph seemed amused by this. Beneath his white beard, one side of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Your clan are practitioners of ninjitsu, Master Hanzo,” he said. “Did you know that every technique in that art was learned on the field of battle? That is to say, you know of them because the men and women who first tried and tested them lived long enough to teach them to others.”

“I was aware of this,” Hanzo said with a nod. If he was surprised by how Rudolph knew this about his clan, he did not show it.

“We are warriors,” Rudolph went on. “'War' is in our very name. It is what we know, what we have been born into and raised for, so it is nothing to be ashamed of. It's our nature. A dog does not lose sleep over the fact that it is a dog. Neither should a man bred for fighting.”

“People are more than dogs,” Jeff protested, sitting up slightly in his chair.

“Are they indeed?” Rudolph Krauser asked him. “In our line of work, there are two types of people: dogs and masters. The master throws the stick, and the dog fetches. You are a long way from home, Jeffrey Bogard. For what other reason are you here than to obey the whim of your master, who sent you to 'fetch'?”

Jeff was now gripping the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were starting to blanche. Hanzo was about to say something when the mustached man took a deep breath. “I am here because I respect Tung Fu Rue, who took me in and gave me a new lease on life. I am in his debt, so if he asks me to help one of his oldest friends, I'll do it. Not because I have to, but because I _want_ to.”

Rudolph shrugged and sat casually back in his soft chair. “As you say.” Thankfully, a servant took that moment to knock on the study door. “Enter,” Rudolph called.

After the man had entered, given Hanzo and Jeff their tea, and then departed, Rudolph Krauser sat up once more, folded his hands in front of his face. “But enough pleasantries. Now that you have your drinks and we will not be disturbed any further: I assume you are here on business?”

“We are,” Hanzo said with a curt nod. “And we appreciate you seeing us. If your gates had not been opened, Jeffrey-san and I would have needed to sneak in.”

“Yes, I've been keeping them open on purpose,” Rudolph explained. “Ever since I learned of my son's disappearance from your friend's school. I am aware of his intentions towards my family.”

“For a man who claims to know much of the ways of the warrior,” said Hanzo. “It might be considered tactically foolish to keep your drawbridge lowered. Especially when you know your enemy is out there?”

Rudolph threw his head back and chuckled for a moment. “Is it really that foolish? I am aware that if he has gone underground, the most likely place he will resurface is here. So I leave my gates open, lull my enemy into a false sense of security, and let him come to me. I already know he will be no match for me. And when he does come, I will rectify the mistake I made during my visit to America, when I allowed myself to be wiled by the charms of an American peasant.”

Hanzo and Jeff exchanged a brief glance as their host continued to chuckle coldly. Jeff Bogard's thoughts were a mix of horror and disbelief, the latter over the fact that any man could speak this way about their own blood. Suddenly, a part of him actually felt some sympathy towards Geese. Some, but only a little. During the years they had trained together, Jeff always had the feeling that it wasn't just revenge against the Von Stroheims that drove Geese Howard to try and excel. He was fueled by other ambitions as well, ones much darker than personal vengeance.

Now, Jeff looked over at Hanzo and tried to guess what the Koppou-Ken master might be thinking. Hanzo's gray eyes were unreadable, however. After a moment, he told Rudolph: “Your family problems are none of my concern, so I will keep my opinions to myself. What does concern me is that a few nights ago, your son entered my home and stole something very valuable, both to me and to my clan. I was told that you might know where we can find this Howard boy. I would be grateful if you could share this information, so that I might reclaim my stolen property.”

“While I apologize for the loss of your property,” Rudolph answered, “And understand your desire for satisfaction, I am afraid that I must keep the knowledge of my son's possible whereabouts to myself. He may be a by-blow from an American commoner, but he is still my blood. Therefore, my troubles with him will remain my own.”

Jeff leaned forward in his chair, closer to the older man. “But you said yourself he wants to kill you. Why would you protect him?”

“I am not protecting him at all,” Rudolph corrected. “He _wants_ to kill me. He will likely try very soon. But he will not succeed. And I do not send anyone to fight my battles for me. I will deal with him myself when the time comes.”

Jeff could feel his blood starting to boil. He glanced at Hanzo out of the corner of his eye, saw the older man sitting calmly in his chair, still sipping his tea. He wondered why Hanzo was just sitting there, as it was _his_ property they were after. Finally, he decided to speak, since Hanzo was not going to. “You realize that if you won't help us,” he said. “We'll need to get the information some other way.”

“You will try,” Rudolph said, sounding almost bored. “You might last a little longer than Geese will, but ultimately you will fail, too.”

Jeff set down his tea, looking ready to leap from his chair at the smug noble sitting across from him, when Hanzo cleared his throat. “Jeffrey-san,” he said firmly. “This man willingly invited us into his home. We will not dishonor his hospitality by attacking him now.” He then said to Krauser: “However, my companion is correct. I must know where I can find this Geese Howard. And if facing you in combat is the only way I will get that answer, then so be it. I will allow you to choose both the time and place where we can settle this matter.”

Rudolph Krauser laughed and then rose from his chair. “I choose to settle this now, in my Great Hall. I prefer to conduct these matters under my own roof, and there is no time like the present.”

Hanzo and Jeff exchanged another glance, and then Hanzo answered: “If that is your wish, we will settle it now, then.”

“Wonderful!” Rudolph said as he clapped his hands together. “I'll give you a few moments to prepare. Please wait here, and a servant will be along shortly to escort you to the Great Hall. Now, if you'll excuse me...” With that, he strode from the study, his black cloak billowing behind him.

After he was gone, Jeff Bogard gave Hanzo a respectful bow. “I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn just now. Or if you felt I was disrespecting our host.”

Hanzo simply gave him a curt nod. “You said what I was thinking. But there is the key difference. Thoughts are only dangerous if they are put into words. Otherwise, they simply stay in your head, where the only person they harm is you.”

“I understand,” Jeff said, and bowed again.

“Still,” said Hanzo, his gray-eyed gaze fixed upon the heavy door that Krauser had just exited through. “It is disturbing that he is this eager for a fight. A man like that is either very strong, or very foolhardy. Or both. If it's both, then it is an extremely dangerous combination. I don't think I need to tell you to stay sharp.”

“No, Shiranui-san,” Jeff answered. “I won't let you down. My master didn't send me to help you because I was a slouch in my studies.”

 _Young bravado,_ Hanzo thought with a smirk of amusement. _Just like me and Yamada-Jubei in our army days._ Then the smirk was gone, and he sat back down in the chair, placed his hands on his knees with palms opened and upturned, and breathed slowly as he focused his chi for the coming battle. After a moment, Jeff sat and started to do the same.

Which was how the servant found them a few minutes later, when he knocked on the door to escort them to the Great Hall. Silently, the two warriors followed the man, neither one of them knowing what to expect, but trying to be ready for anything. This time, they passed no servants, or anyone else, on their walk to the Great Hall. When they arrived, they soon learned why.

The servant grasped the heavy brass rings on the large oak doors leading into the hall, and slowly pushed them open. Jeffrey Bogard and Hanzo Shiranui entered the vast room to find many of the serving staff in the castle assembled there, lining the wall to their left. The stones beneath their feet were covered by a very old-looking yet elegant carpet, which stretched across the room's center, from one side to another. At the far end opposite Hanzo and Jeff was a rather large, gothic-looking baroque organ whose workings took up most of the entire wall.

Standing in front of the organ was their opponent, Rudolph Krauser. He unclasped his black cloak and handed it to the dark-haired teenage boy from the courtyard, who stood just behind and to Rudolph's left. The boy accepted the cloak, and stepped back with a bow of his head, moving to stand along the wall to their right, next to the butler, Sebastian, and the purple-haired boy who Jeff and Hanzo remembered was Rudolph's son. Sebastian remained at attention, his expression suggesting this was all routine, but the eyes of both boys shone with excitement, as if this were rare entertainment for them.

“Now, then,” Rudolph called across the expanse of the room to them. “You know why we are here.”

“Indeed,” Hanzo answered, not as loud as Rudolph, but the natural acoustics in the stone walls and arched ceiling of the Great Hall carried his voice well. “To restore my family's honor, and preserve the birthrights of my child and grandchild. If Jeffrey-san and I defeat you, you will tell us what we want to know.”

Rudolph gave them both a curt nod, and assumed a fighting stance. “You will not win, but I agree to those terms. And when _I_ win, you will both die. As I've tried to teach my son: one should always be prepared to finish something, even if someone else starts it.”

Hanzo nodded, and after removing his haori, leaving him dressed only in his tunic and hakama, assumed a fighting stance of his own. “I have fought men to the death before, Jeffrey-san,” he told the American martial artist. “I understand that Tung asked you to assist me, but this is still a family matter for me. You do not have to sacrifice your life for a cause that is not truly yours.”

Jeff Bogard shrugged off his jacket and also took up a stance. “Like he said, we're warriors. I won't just stand by and watch when I have the ability to do _something_.”

Hanzo gave him a nod, then turned his attention back to their opponent. For a moment, the silence throughout the Great Hall was deafening. Then it was shattered by Rudolph Krauser's shout: “BEGIN!”

 

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry this has taken me a while, but as I said, I suck at writing fight scenes, and I wanted this one to be better than any of the other fight scenes I've ever written. Please feel free to write a review and let me know how I did. And now, without further adieu, the conclusion of “Preservation”...
> 
> All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them, the video games or the anime.

_“BEGIN!”_

The shout of the castle's lord echoed through the Great Hall, but neither Jeff Bogard nor Hanzo Shiranui appeared moved to action by those words. Both the master and the student held back, their arms still raised defensively, moving forward step by cautious step across the plush carpet rolled out beneath their feet.

Hanzo stole a cautious glance at Jeff, raised and lowered his right eyebrow twice, then his left one three times, then raised and lowered both eyebrows once, lowering the left one first, then the right. Hanzo then prayed to the Gods that his friend Tung Fu Rue had taught Jeff the silent system of communication that the two men, along with Jubei Yamada, had developed together during the war.

It took Jeff a moment to realize what was happening, but then to Hanzo's relief, the American warrior silently nodded once, but otherwise he gave no indication that he had seen Hanzo do anything.

They continued forward, slowly closing the gap between them and their opponent, who stood there patiently, a defiant smirk under his beard. On the sidelines, all sets of eyes in the room were fixed unblinking on their lord.

Hanzo lunged forward suddenly, circling to the left. Jeff started to follow, but then a split-second later feinted right. He went in low, dropping onto his back and sliding forward while Hanzo went high. The Ninjitsu master lunged forward to strike with the palm of his hand. Jeff swung his leg around in time with Hanzo's strike, intending to hit Krauser in the shins.

Jeff's foot found its mark, but it was like striking a steel pillar. If Rudolph registered his blow, he did not even flinch. At the same time, he caught Hanzo's hand in his own, gripped it for a moment, regarding his opponent curiously, and then tossed him aside. Hanzo did a flip backwards, landed on his feet, and immediately raised his forearms defensively again.

Jeff was back on his feet by then, and tried to series of jabs at Rudolph's midsection, all of which were swatted away by his opponent. The German noble had a look of boredom on his face as he defended himself. By this time, Jeff was joined by Hanzo once more, who launched forward across the stone floor with his elbow raised. As Rudolph continued to block Jeff with one arm, he raised his other arm so that his own elbow blocked Hanzo's. He then slammed the ground with both fists, emitting a small burst of chi that flung his opponents backwards. However, both Hanzo and Jeff landed on their feet, and once more adopted defensive stances.

“His constitution is greater than any opponent I have ever faced,” said Hanzo to his younger companion, in Mandarin, since he had a feeling Krauser might be more fluent in Japanese, but not Chinese. “We should hang back, for now, and goad him into going on the offensive, see if we can notice any patterns that we might use to our advantage.”

“That sounds like a good strategy,” Jeff replied, also in Mandarin.

To their amazement, however, the hulking form of Rudolph Krauser began to shake with laughter. “So you wish to see me on the offensive?” He asked them, speaking in the same language they had just been using. “Very well, then.”

He charged forward at Hanzo, moving much faster than Hanzo would have thought he could move, swinging his right arm upward in a tight vertical arc. The air around it crackled as it was rent by some unseen energy, and then a bright blue half-moon of chi flames shot from Rudolph's arm and whizzed across the room towards the Hanzo. The Japanese master barely avoided it, feeling the rush of heat as he sidestepped it. The energy slammed into a marble pillar behind him, taking a large chunk out of it.

Rudolph did not stop, but followed this by advancing further, until the distance between him and Hanzo was completely closed. His feet were a blur as he slid across the floor and swung his other arm at his opponent. Hanzo managed to duck this, and heard a loud crunch as more of the pillar was pulverized by Rudolph's fist. But Hanzo was then caught by the kick from Rudolph's left leg a moment later. He grunted as the Earl of Stroheim's armored shin-guard slammed into his side. Hanzo did a quick leap backwards, launching three fans rapidly at Krauser as he moved. The fans glowed bright with chi fire, but Rudolph knocked each one aside before they could connect, unfazed by the fire that surrounded them.

For a moment, it seemed like Rudolph had forgotten Jeff Bogard. Then, he felt a rush of air from behind, though he did not turn to face it. Moments later, the heel of Tung's student slammed down against Rudolph's armored shoulder. Though it left a sizable dent in the shoulder guard, Rudolph gave no indication that the blow had fazed him. Instead, he casually grabbed Jeff's ankle, and tossed him in the direction of Hanzo. Again, Jeff's fighting companion had to move to avoid being hit. Jeff rolled as he struck the ground, but then quickly regained his feet, shaking his head to try and clear it more quickly.

“I could have easily broken your ankle just now, Jeffrey,” Rudolph said with a small chuckle. “But fortunately for you, I did not want to cripple you so soon into the fight. It makes things more... interesting that way.”

“How nice of you,” Jeff snapped as he sprang forward again, with his fists raised. This time they were surrounded by luminous spheres of chi energy. He managed to land a few blows to Krauser's belly before the elder adversary seemed to adapt to the attack. As Jeff tried to punch him, Rudolph would counter with the same fist so that the two connected, knuckle to knuckle. He then saw an opening and swung up with one of his legs, the armored shin-guard slamming into Jeff's side. The American warrior felt a twinge of pain shoot through him, followed by a numbness in his side, and he quickly limped backwards.

Rudolph, however, was closing in on him fast. He delivered two more kicks with almost blurring speed, and Jeff was barely able to dodge them. Just as the German noble was about to try and land a third kick, he felt Hanzo's elbow slam into the small of his back. This time, Hanzo's move was charged with a small aura of chi fire, which jolted Rudolph a little. Hanzo did not pause, and instead jumped up, wrapped his hands round Rudolph's shoulders close to the neck (where the armor did not protect). Hanzo finished his move by leaping bodily over Rudolph's head, twisting his arms around so that he flung the master of Mittelbirge Castle across the Great Hall, where his back slammed into one of the immense marble pillars, forming a spiderweb crack in it.

The elder Ninjitsu master then moved to his comrade's side. “Can you move quickly? We have only a few seconds while he is dazed.”

There was still a tingle in Jeff's left leg, but he gritted his teeth and nodded. “I'm with you, Shiranui-san.”

“Good,” snapped Hanzo. “Hit him hard and fast.”

The two men launched into a pincer attack, coming at Rudolph from each side. The Earl was still recovering from being thrown, and so he was caught unawares by another flying elbow attack from Hanzo on one side, while Jeff slammed his knee into the opposite side of Rudolph's midsection.

Both of them then tried to press their attack. Jeff dropped to the ground and planted one hand flat against the cold stone, then swung his legs out into Krauser's knees. Hanzo, meanwhile, drew back his elbow, and then shot the opposite arm forward, fingers of his hand spread wide. A ball of chi flame erupted from it, and struck Rudolph at almost point blank range. The dual attack seemed to overwhelm him, and he sank to his knees for a moment.

Hanzo and Jeff continued their assault, but Rudolph suddenly countered by springing to his feet while they were in mid-swing, whipping his arms around him like a deadly windmill. Jeff dropped to his back to try and avoid the sudden onslaught. Hanzo was not as quick, and took one of Krauser's fists in the side of his torso. He jumped backward a few paces, the wind momentarily knocked from him.

While on the ground, Jeff whipped out again with both legs, trying to trip his elder opponent. Rudolph, however, jumped into the air, higher than Jeff thought a man of his size would be able to, then streaked back down towards the ground, his knee jutting out like a missile. Jeff saw the glint of his armored shin guard in the chandelier light overhead, and rolled to avoid the attack. Rudolph came down hard on the spot where Jeff had just been, hard enough to shake the Great Hall, his metal-clad knee making a large crack in the stone floor.

Jeff quickly did a handspring back to his feet, and fortunately he was rejoined by Hanzo at that moment. Once again, Jeff tried hitting their opponent low, while Hanzo spun his leg around in a spinning kick. Halfway through the kick, a steam of fire seemed to shoot from his leg, striking Rudolph square in his breastplate.

The Earl of Stroheim actually jumped back a few feet, forearms up in a defensive stance. Then he gave another icy laugh that rang through the Great Hall, making more than a few of the servants shudder. “You enjoy playing with fire, Master Hanzo,” he said to the Ninjitsu master. “Perhaps I should show you some of my own.”

He then raised both his fists over his head. Hanzo and Jeff each heard a crackling noise as the fists began to glow with an unholy green light. Then, with a cry of “ _KAISER STORM!”_ Rudolph slammed both fists against the ancient stone ground. Two huge whirlwinds of fire shot up from the ground where his fists had touched it, and swirled through the air towards his opponents. Along the walls, the servants crouched down, trying to make themselves smaller as they were buffeted by hot winds from the attack. The only two spectators who appeared unfazed were Rudolph's son Wolfgang, and the dark-haired boy called Laurence.

As soon as he saw the whirling flames, Hanzo leaped over to Jeff's side, pressed his fists together at the knuckles, and then shot his arms outward in a semi-circle in front of him, emitting his own wave of chi fire which slammed into Rudolph's attack. There was a bright flash that everyone in the room had to shield their eyes from, and although both Jeff and Hanzo were hit by the edges of the Kaiser Storm, the damage was lessened significantly.

Rudolph barely gave them a chance to recover from that before he sprang forward. Hanzo, being more experienced, had shaken the residue of Krauser's attack off more quickly, and attempted to dodge, but he was still struck on the shoulder by the earl's wrist guard, sending a shock of numbness down through his left arm. Rudolph tried to follow up on the other shoulder, but Hanzo managed to counter with his elbow, as well as block the kick that Rudolph tried to follow up with. Hanzo then struck out with his own spinning kick that connected with Krauser's ribs.

As usual, Hanzo's adversary seemed unfazed by the blow, and was quick to counter with his own move, which concerned Hanzo. As a master of Koppou-Ken, Hanzo had landed several blows throughout this fight that would have broken bones in any other opponent. That last kick should have cracked several of Rudolph's ribs, even through his breastplate. The fact that he was unfazed told Hanzo that Rudolph had either resisted the attack, or that Hanzo's moves had been successful and Rudolph was completely ignoring the pain from his injuries, pain that would be slowing down a lesser man considerably.

“Jeffrey-san!” Hanzo shouted as he did another flip backwards, trying to avoid Rudolph's onslaught but still being brushed by one of the Earl's kicks. “Are you still with me?”

Rudolph paused in his advance on Hanzo, feeling a sudden rush of air behind him, then spun his upper body, swinging out his fist and trying to catch the American warrior with the back of his knuckles. Jeff ducked the attack, countered by lunging forward and slamming his palm into Krauser's side. He followed this up immediately by lunging again, bringing the palm of his other hand to connect with Krauser's chin. “I'm with you,” Jeff affirmed as he continued to try and press his attack.

However, Rudolph recovered almost instantly, as usual, and attempted to strike out at Jeff, but his American opponent had already maneuvered around the Earl and back to Hanzo's side. Without giving them a chance to catch their breath, Rudolph was on them again, delivering strikes with bone-shattering force that his opponents were only barely able to dodge.

“Jeffrey-san!” Hanzo shouted over the melee. He parried another kick from the Earl and tried to counter with one of his own. “We need to concentrate another attack! The strongest one that you know how to do! Perhaps together, we can finally penetrate his defenses.”

“I'm ready when you are!” Jeff shouted back. He ducked a lunge from Krauser's elbow, attempted to bring his own fist up into one of the pressure points under Rudolph's armpit, but his fist was blocked before he got halfway there.

Hanzo launched another spinning kick that shot flames from his feet, which bought him some time to reach into his tunic and pull out something that Jeff could not see. “Be ready to move as far away from him as you can in three seconds,” Hanzo instructed him.

“Hai!” Jeff responded, nodding his understanding.

“Two...” Hanzo dodged another series of attacks from the Earl of Stroheim. “One!” Then, moving quickly, he flung what was in his hand to the stone floor of the Great Hall. A huge, billowing cloud of gray smoke seemed to leap from the ground and completely surround Rudolph. Jeff took a few moments to retreat back to a safe distance, then curled the fingers of his left hand into a fist and started to focus his chi. As before, a sphere of blue energy surrounded his fist, only larger and brighter than it had been the last time he'd tried this move. On the other side of the smoke cloud, Hanzo was focusing his own energies.

A few seconds later, there was a sudden burst of air that dissipated the smoke. As soon as it had lifted and Rudolph was revealed once more, Hanzo launched a flurry of fans at his adversary. Rudolph blocked them all easily, but the fans were merely to distract him. As soon as they had left Hanzo's hands, the Ninjitsu master leaped into the air, then shot down at an angle towards Rudolph, feet first, the lower half of his body enveloped in chi flames.

On the other side of Rudolph, Jeff Bogard was advancing forward as rapidly as he could, holding his chi-charged fist away from himself at a downward angle. Rudolph was still distracted from the fan attack, and did not see Jeff approaching. When he was close enough, Jeff swung his fist in an uppercut motion, releasing the chi energy stored in it right as his knuckled connected with the back of Rudolph's head. At the same time, Hanzo struck Rudolph on the other side with his flying kick. There was a blinding flash, followed by an energy backlash that threw both Hanzo and Jeff backwards, where they landed on their feet.

When the flames died down from their dual attack, Rudolph still stood there, as impassive as ever, but every servant in the hall who hadn't run for cover gasped in shock at the sight of their master. A single speck of red gleamed prominently at the corner of his mouth, standing out thanks to his white beard. Rudolph noticed their stunned looks, and ran his tongue over his lips, feeling a familiar warmth, followed by a metallic taste. Over on the opposite wall, Rudolph's son leaned forward at this development, a new eager look in his eyes.

Rudolph touched two fingers to his lips and withdrew them, raised one eyebrow curiously when he saw the smear of crimson on their tips. Then he began to laugh, cold and maniacal, echoing through the Great Hall.

Both Hanzo and Jeff remained where they were, waiting for their opponent to make the next move. For a man in his fifties, Hanzo was still in better shape than most people half his age, but even he was starting to feel the ache of battle fatigue gnawing at his muscles. Jeff Bogard, despite being blessed with the energy of youth, and the advantage of being trained by a teacher as experienced as Tung, also seemed to be slightly unsteady on his feet. Meanwhile, the Earl of Stroheim hardly appeared to be winded. Though neither Jeff nor Hanzo said anything, both warriors were beginning to wonder if this battle might be their last.

“Very impressive,” Rudolph boomed out after he had finished laughing. “You have just accomplished what only a handful of men ever could in my lifetime. After I have killed you, you may take comfort in the fact that your spirits will likely live on as legends in the fighting world for what you have done here today. But as fun as this has been, it must end sometime.” He curled the fingers on his hands into fists, and both began to glow with an eldritch light as he readied another Kaiser Storm. Hanzo altered his stance, trying to summon as much chi fire as he could to shield him and Jeff...

“Wait!” A small voice shouted, and a moment later, Rudolph's son dashed in between the combatants. Rudolph's fists relaxed, the light fading from them. “This contest does not need to continue, father,” the boy said. “Because I will tell these men what they want to know.”

An audible gasp was heard from more than a few of the servants assembled. Hanzo and Jeff exchanged a brief, silent glace, but still kept their arms raised defensively. Over on the wall to Rudolph's left, Sebastian's brow was furrowed with worry, but his loyalty to Rudolph prevented him from saying anything more. Next to him, the black-haired boy with the sword had a more curious look in his dark brown eyes. His gaze kept moving back and forth between the father, then the son.

“Stand aside, Wolfgang!” Rudolph growled at his heir. “I meant to teach you a lesson on finishing things, and that's exactly what I am about to do.”

Wolfgang turned to face his elder, looking less timid than he had in the study. “No, father, I will finish it.”

“I do not need a child to finish my battles for me, boy!” Rudolph snapped at him.

“And yet, here we are,” Wolfgang snapped back, almost stoically.

A few moments passed in which many of the people watching from the sidelines did not dare to breathe. Rudolph Krauser's dark eyes regarded his son, but their intent was unreadable. Finally, he drew in a long, slow breath. “You are going against the family on this, boy,” he finally said. “You understand there will be punishment.”

“I do understand, father,” said Wolfgang, unwavering. “And I will accept that punishment, whatever it may be.”

“So be it,” the elder Krauser growled, then strode across the carpet towards the arched doorway that Hanzo and Jeff had entered from. “Sebastian, Laurence, to me!” He called when he was halfway there. Both the butler and the dark-haired youth gave Wolfgang a quick glance, but the purple-haired boy simply nodded. So they turned and followed their master out of the Hall.

The entire time, both Hanzo and Jeff had kept their gaze fixed on the lord of Mittelburge Castle, their gazes following him as he moved towards the exit. Finally, when he had left with his servants in tow, the two warriors lowered their arms. The young earl-in-training approached them and cleared his throat.

“Master Shiranui,” he said softly, with little of the fire his voice had just taken when he was confronting his father. “Master Bogard. I understand that you wish to know the location of my brother.”

Though Hanzo had some questions for the boy, his words reminded him of the reason for their visit. “I do wish to know that,” he said to the boy. “And if you are able to provide it, we would be most grateful.”

“In truth, I do not know _exactly_ where he is,” Wolfgang explained to them. “But I have an idea of where he _might_ be. Please, follow me back to the study.” And so with no other options, the Ninjitsu master and his American ally allowed themselves to be led from the Great Hall.

Though it had only been less than twenty minutes since they'd last left the study, it felt like hours to both Hanzo and Jeff. The fire was still going high when they got back, and Wolfgang wasted no time. He climbed up a ladder connected to one of the book shelves, and grabbed several tattered pieces of parchment that were stacked haphazardly on a top shelf. Then he jumped back down to the ground, brought the stack over to a large, ornate oak table, and began to sift through them. Finally, he gave a small nod as he appeared to have found what he was looking for.

“Please, come here,” he said, gesturing to Hanzo and Jeff. The two men stepped closer to the table, and saw that Wolfgang had unrolled a parchment with some sort of contour map etched on it. “This is a map of the Black Forest, which is far to the south,” the boy explained. “There are several caves throughout it that my brother uses both for shelter, and to hide items of value. If he has returned to West Germany, he is most likely using one of these caves for shelter, and to plan his attack.” Wolfgang then made a long arm across the table, took up a quill pen resting in a bottle of ink, on top of a stack of books. He then used the pen to make several dark circles on the map. “There are all the hiding spots of Geese Howard that I know of. You may find what you are looking for in one of them.”

“You said the Black Forest was far to the south,” said Jeff. “How far, exactly?”

“In the state of Baden-Wurttemburg, on the French/German border,” Wolfgang answered.

“That's on the opposite end of the country,” Jeff said, letting out a weary sigh.

“Then it seems we have a trek ahead of us,” Hanzo told his companion. Then, he asked their new host: “Do you mind if I take some time to study this map, and commit its contents to memory?”

“No need,” Wolfgang answered. “You may take the map with you.”

Both Hanzo and Jeff were surprised by this, but the elder Ninjitsu master simply said, “Domo arigato, Krauser-sama,” then rolled up the parchment map and slipped it into the sleeve of his haori.

“Do you require anything else?” Wolfgang asked them.

Hanzo shook his head. “Thank you, no. You've given us what we came for. We shall take our leave now.”

“I'll show you out,” said the purple-haired youth.

When they got outside, they saw it was nightfall, and that clouds had rolled in, blotting out the light from the stars. A flurry of snow was beginning to fall. They made their way to the drawbridge and saw that their carriage had left.

“He didn't wait for us, even after we paid him to,” Jeff remarked.

“No doubt he was frightened off by the sounds of battle coming from inside the castle,” Hanzo pointed out. “Which is fine. He is not a warrior, just a working man with a family. He should not have to risk his life over our business. And are you trying to tell me that you can't walk back to town? It's only a few miles. You Americans are more spoiled than I thought.”

Jeff laughed as he re-donned his jacket. “Me? I'm more worried about _you_ getting tired. I won't be able to carry you if that happens, by the way.”

The entire time, Wolfgang Krauser simply stood in the middle of the drawbridge, flecks of snow collecting in his purple hair, and said nothing. Finally, when the two fighters were ready to leave, Hanzo turned the boy. “We are grateful for your aid,” he said to Wolfgang. “But if you don't mind my asking: why have you helped us?”

“To repay a favor you did for me,” the young earl-in-training said simply.

Hanzo's brow furrowed in confusion. “We've never seen you before today,” he said. “In what way did we help you?”

A cold smile, utterly devoid of any mirth or merriment, spread slowly across Wolfgang Krauser's face then. “Today, for the first time in my life, I saw my father bleed. I know now that Rudolph Krauser is not invincible. You have given me hope for the future. That knowledge is worth the punishment I will receive later.”

Both Jeff and Hanzo exchanged a quick, uneasy glance. Then Hanzo gave the boy a respectful bow, and Jeff did the same, after which they turned and started off through the snowy night towards the warm lights of Stroheim village a few miles below them. Even though that was the last time either of them saw the boy, there would be odd moments for the rest of their lives when both Hanzo Shiranui and Jeffrey Bogard would find themselves remembering his evil smile.

* * *

After arriving back in Stroheim, Hanzo and Jeff returned to the inn where they had managed to secure lodging and drop off their bags before they had headed up to the castle. Jeff Bogard was ravenous after the fight, and the three-mile hike back to the village, so he had quickly said yes when the innkeeper asked if they would be having dinner. He wound up packing away two plates of scalded knack-wurst with mustard, fried potatoes and steamed red cabbage. Hanzo had a bite of Jeff's sausage and potatoes, but found them to be too heavy for his liking. He did, however, eat the red cabbage, and fortunately, the innkeeper had also been able to pan-fry him some fish.

After dinner, the two of them sat by the fireplace in the inn's common room. Jeff was sipping beer from a large mug, while Hanzo, who had taken a taste of Jeff's drink and thought it was too bitter, was drinking hot tea. The elder Ninjitsu and Koppou-Ken master had the parchment map unrolled on his lap, and was studying it by the firelight, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose.

“It seems that this Geese Howard has quite a few hiding places,” Hanzo remarked. “It would take too much time to search them all, time that we do not have.”

Jeff leaned in closer to Hanzo's chair, and appraised the map they had gotten from Wolfgang Krauser. In particular, Jeff studied the blue areas on the map (which indicated water), and where the black dots were in relation to those.

“I'm betting that he uses some of these caves more than others,” Jeff said. “When he was Shifu Tung's student, Geese would sometimes spend time on his own, alone in the wilderness. But he's also a bit of a neat freak, obsessed with cleanliness and tidiness. So he would want to be very close to a body of water.” He pointed to a few of the dots on the map which nearly overlapped with the blue areas. “I think these caves would be the best places to start looking.”

Hanzo nodded, and took a sip of tea. “I'll trust your judgment, Jeffrey-san. Tung said that you know this man.” The elder ninja then picked up a pen from the small table next to his chair, and circled the dots that Jeff had pointed to. “And now I suggest that we get some rest. We leave before dawn.” He drank the rest of his tea, and then rose from the chair.

“I'll be ready, Shiranui-san,” Jeff told his comrade.

Hanzo started towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms, then paused at the foot of them, and said to Jeff: “You fought well today. Tung has chosen a worthy heir.”

Jeff rose from his seat, folded his hands in front of his chest, and bowed. “Domo, Shiranui-san. Coming from his oldest friend, that means a lot.”

Hanzo returned the bow, then started up the stairs to his room. Jeff Bogard sat by the fire for a little longer, finishing his beer before he retired.

* * *

**Black Forest Region, West Germany – Gengenbach-Alpirsbach Trail – December 23 rd, 1973**

The journey had been largely uneventful. Jeff and Hanzo had used public transportation where they could, be it taxi, bus, or even horse-drawn carriage. The rest of the time, they either went on foot, or relied upon the kindness of a passing motorist. Ordinarily, one might not have stopped for hitchhikers. But it was the Christmas season, and many locals were curious as to why a Japanese and an American were traveling together through West Germany so close to the holiday.

Now they were deep in the Black Forest, making their way over one of the trails. Before entering the forest, the two of them had managed to find a shop where they could purchase snow shoes, which the both of them needed. A thick blanket of white coated both the ground beneath them, and also the evergreens that towered all around them. As they made their way deeper into the trail, Jeff Bogard cast a glance skyward. The sun was out now, and the American warrior was making a note of its west-ward path as it dipped closer to the horizon. So far, they had been to two of the caves that Wolfgang Krauser had marked for them, and found neither Geese Howard nor the items Hanzo was looking for.

“Let's hope that saying about the third time is true,” said Jeff. “Otherwise, we'll need to seek shelter when it gets dark.”

“We won't freeze,” Hanzo said. “I can make us a fire easily enough. I just hope your information on this Howard boy turns out to be correct. Otherwise, this mission will take longer than I want it to. I have been away from my home, my family, long enough now.”

“You want to be back in time for Christmas?” Jeff asked him as he ducked under a low-hanging pine branch that was heavy with snow.

“No,” said Hanzo. “My family are not Christian, so we don't celebrate it. My son's wife is pregnant with their first child, my first grandchild, and her time is very close. I was hoping to be there when the baby first came into the world, and then... this happened. I didn't like having to leave them, but this is about more than getting satisfaction for my clan. It also has to do with the preservation of my son's birthright, the preservation of a legacy hundreds of years old.”

Jeff was silent for a few moments, gazing down at the snow. He hadn't really asked Hanzo too many questions about his family, since he knew the subject of discussing what Geese stole was off-limits, and so he didn't want to get that personal. But he had no idea that Geese's theft had taken place at such a bad time. He remembered what Hanzo said back before the fight with Rudolph, the elder ninja had also talked then about preserving the birthright of his son, his unborn grandchild.

For a while, they walked in silence. Jeff was now more curious than ever about what they were looking for, but he was still determined to respect Hanzo's desire not to discuss it. So he quickened his pace over the snow until he was walking even with Hanzo. “We'd better get a move on, Shiranui-san. Geese has already stolen enough from you. I refuse to let him steal something as precious as you being there when your grandchild is born.”

“Domo, Jeffrey-san,” Hanzo said with a small chuckle as he quickened his own pace to keep up with the younger man.

An hour later, and they had encountered no one and nothing except a pack of wolves, who were easily scared off by a few random chi blasts from Jeff and Hanzo. Finally, they paused for a few moments so Hanzo could study the map. “We'll need to go off the trail, now,” he said. “The next cave is two miles to the east, overlooking a lake.”

So they started to move through the underbrush, where the evergreens grew a little more thickly around them. As they walked into the shade, Jeff Bogard couldn't help but shiver involuntarily. He was wearing long johns under his layers of denim, but even so, the chill of winter was starting to get to him. He cast a quick glance at Hanzo. If his elder companion was starting to feel the cold, he did not show any signs of it. Almost as if some strong internal source of energy were somehow keeping him warm.

The American martial artist then glanced up at the branches crisscrossing overhead... and noticed something. Several of the lower-hanging boughs did not have snow on them, as if something or someone had shaken it off. And a few of the trees appeared to be missing some of their limbs. They had not been snapped off, but something sliced cleanly through them, and Jeff knew it was past the season for foresters with saws to be in this deep.

“Shiranui-san,” he whispered, and the elder Ninjitsu master paused in mid-step. “Look up at the trees,” Jeff said.

Hanzo's gray eyes flicked upwards, and he noticed the same thing that Jeff had. “Did Geese progress far enough in his studies where he would be able to do this with his bare hands?” Hanzo whispered back.

“Farther than that,” Jeff answered.

“Hm,” Hanzo grunted, then lowered himself down to one knee. For a few minutes, he looked at the ground beneath his feet, intently studying the snow. Jeff was about to ask what he was looking for, when Hanzo whispered: “Someone else has walked here recently. They've been brushing away their tracks as they moved.”

“So, if he is at this cave,” said Jeff. “We should approach from another direction.”

“Agreed,” said Hanzo. The two of them took a right off of the path they had been following, and began to circle, in order to approach the cave from behind. Their snowshoe-clad feet made no sound as they moved, and their eyes were constantly scanning for signs of any traps that might have been laid to alert someone of their presence.

When they were almost to the clearing where the cave was, Hanzo turned and said to Jeff: “I appreciate you coming this far with me, Jeffrey-san. However, if we do find the Howard boy at this cave, I must confront him on my own. Please do not interfere.”

Jeff gave a grim nod. “I understand.”

They continued forward, and after several hundred yards the trees began to clear. They soon found themselves standing over the mouth of a cave entrance. Their gaze moved across the snow on the clearing below. Once again, it looked smooth and untouched, but to the eyes of trained warriors, the tell-tale signs of someone removing tracks were again visible.

Then they heard a faint noise from the other end of the clearing, a noise of someone approaching. Hanzo glanced over at his American comrade, and wordlessly gestured to the trees, jabbing his finger skyward. Jeff nodded his understanding, and the two warriors turned and silently leaped up into the evergreen canopy overhead.

A few minutes later, they watched from their hiding place as a young boy in his late teens, with long blond hair, dressed in a heavy fur-lined parka, jeans, and hiking boots emerged from the trees and into the clearing. He had the plump carcass of a white rabbit slung over one shoulder, and as he got closer to the mouth of the cave, the two warriors noticed that he had a pine branch, thick with needles, tied around his waist, which dragged along the ground behind his feet, erasing his tracks through the snow.

Hanzo looked over at Jeff, pointed a finger at the blond boy, and raised an eyebrow. _Geese?_ Jeff nodded twice.

Halfway to the mouth of the cave, the boy stopped, raised his gaze slightly, and studied the treeline above the entrance to his temporary home. For a moment, it seemed like he was looking right at them. Then he shrugged and continued onward. He paused again after a few steps, his ears picking up the faint whistle of the fan that Hanzo had just thrown. He quickly dropped his dinner onto the snow, then raised his arms in a defensive stance. A few seconds later, the boy snatched the fan out of mid-air right before it would have struck his head.

Seconds after he caught it, he saw the fan's owner leap through the air to land in front of the entrance to his hiding place. The boy used the weapon he'd just caught to cut through the rope around his waist, then turned and tried to run back the way he'd come. But he'd hardly taken three steps when another, more familiar figure, landed in front of him.

“Come to fight me, teacher's pet?” Geese Howard snarled at Jeff Bogard, his face contorted in rage. If he was surprised to see Jeff here, he did not show it.

“Only if you try to run,” Jeff Bogard said calmly, and gestured over his shoulder to Hanzo. “Your fight is with him. Apparently, he has a bone to pick with you.”

Geese was still holding onto Hanzo's fan, and made to raise it against his former classmate, but he'd barely moved his arm when Jeff quickly snatched the fan from Geese's hand, and slipped it into the seat pocket of his jeans.

Geese spat contemptuously onto the snow between them, then turned to face the Japanese warrior who still stood at the cave's entrance.

“You are Geese Howard?” Hanzo called to him, though it clearly wasn't a question.

Geese took a few steps towards the man and shouted back: “Who wants to know?”

“Shiranui-Hanzo, master of the Shiranui dojo of Ninjitsu and Koppou-Ken in Mino, Nippon. Though you should be familiar with it. You recently paid me a visit, yes?”

Geese could tell by his tone that this also was not a question. “I don't see how you could have known that. I killed the only witness.” He paused for a moment, then, looking introspective. “Or I thought I killed him, anyway. I _was_ in a hurry to escape, which is probably why I didn't execute that move properly. Seems I'm paying for that mistake now.”

“Your real mistake,” said Hanzo, with a fire in his voice that Jeff had not heard until now, “Was entering my home without invitation, attacking those under my charge, and stealing heirlooms from me, heirlooms whose contents are meant only for the Shiranui ninja. I have come to get them back, by any means necessary.”

If Geese was intimidated, he did not show it. Instead, he simply gave a small snort. “So, how did you find me? That pompous fool in his big, cozy castle would never have given me away.”

“That is not important,” Hanzo Shiranui growled at his young opponent. “What is important is that one way or another, I will get what I have come for.” He reached into the sleeve of his haori, pulled out an ornate kunai, the handle of which was decorated with the same crest that was on Hanzo's tunic, and tossed it through the air towards the blond-haired boy. The dagger landed at Geese's feet, the point of the blade sinking into the snow, the hilt quivering slightly. Geese cast a quick glance down at it, but made no effort to pick it up.

“You have two options, boy,” Hanzo continued. “You can willingly give back what you stole from me without any argument, and then...” His gray eyes flicked down to the kunai at Geese's feet. “...You can die with honor.”

Jeff Bogard's mouth fell open, but no words came out, simply because he was too shocked to form them. Hanzo paid this no mind, and went on: “Your other option is for me to take what I have come for by force. Either way, my clan's honor will be restored.”

For a long while, there was silence in the clearing, made even more deafening by the dead of winter, which had sucked all sounds of life from the forest. Hanzo's gray eyes bored into Geese's dark brown, while the boy stared back just as impassively. Finally, Jeff Bogard managed to find his voice. “Shiranui-san, isn't this... a little extreme? I mean... seppuku? I understand your desire for satisfaction, but this is 20th Century Germany, not feudal Japan.”

“I told you not to interfere, Jeffrey-san!” Hanzo snapped. Then, he turned his attention back to Geese. “So, what say you, boy?”

Geese Howard stared long and hard at Hanzo Shiranui, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, he raised one corner of his mouth ever so slightly in an arrogant smirk. “There's a third option, old man,” he said coldly.

Hanzo said nothing. Instead, he cocked one of his eyebrows at Geese, inviting the blond-haired youth to explain. Geese paused for another moment, then, quick as a flash, he moved one of his feet underneath the handle of the kunai and kicked upwards, sending the knife up into the air. Geese reached out with one hand, wrapping his fingers around the cold steel of the dagger's hilt, and then emitted a cry of rage that rang through the forest as he charged forward, straight at Hanzo.

Jeff Bogard stood there, wondering what he should do. Hanzo had told him not to interfere, but... the elder Ninjitsu master appeared to be just standing calmly in one place. If Hanzo realized the threat that was racing towards him, he did not seem to acknowledge it. Instead, he stood with his head bowed, hands in front of him with palms pressed flat together, his eyes shut.

Geese was getting closer, the kunai raised in front of him, the blade aimed straight for Hanzo's heart. Right before Jeff was about to intervene, he saw the snow around Hanzo's feet begin to swirl, and he realized what was happening. Still in the same stance, Hanzo slowly began to rise a few inches off the ground until he was hovering. Jeff then realized that the snow he saw swirling all around was actually tendrils of chi energy that Hanzo was drawing from the earth into his body.

Geese lunged forward with the kunai, but right before he would have connected, Hanzo's gray eyes suddenly snapped open. A large, swirling pillar of fire seemed to erupt from the ground at his feet, and although Hanzo was in its center, he remained unburned by it. The pillar of chi fire then radiated outwards in every direction, slamming into Geese Howard. With a howl of pain, Geese was flung backwards by the energy burst, until his back slammed against the trunk of an evergreen on the edge of the clearing. He slumped to the ground and lay still, tendrils of smoke rising off his body.

Jeff looked over at Geese, saw that the blond youth was not getting up. He used the rope that Geese had cut from his waist to bind the thief's wrists behind his back, then picked up the kunai that lay a few inches from Geese and tucked it into his belt. Then he walked over to Hanzo. The elder ninja's feet were back on the ground, but he appeared unsteady on them.

“Shiranui-san...” he started to say as he offered him a hand, but Hanzo waved him away.

“There may finally come a day when I'm too old to use that technique,” he grumbled. “But it's not today. Even if it _is_ getting harder to do.”

“That... was amazing,” Jeff told him. “How...”

“Someday, when Tung-san decides you are ready, he will teach you how to use techniques similar to that one,” said Hanzo. “But for now, we have other matters to attend to.”

“Right,” said Jeff. “What you're looking for may be in this cave. Whatever it is, Geese would have wanted to study it, to see if it could help him in his revenge.”

Hanzo had now regained his composure. “Very well,” he said with a nod. “Let's go.”

Jeff pulled a flashlight from his travel bag, flicked it on, and then the two warriors entered the cave. Inside, they found a large open area. In the center of it was a circle of stones, inside of which was a large pile of blackened embers and gray ash. Along the walls, they found a rolled-up sleeping bag, and some stacks of books and scrolls.

One particular group of parchment scrolls seemed to attract Hanzo's interest, and he crouched down in front of them, unrolled them one by one, and scanned over their contents. After several minutes of this, he nodded and turned to Jeff. “This is what we've come to find,” he said. “And they appear to be all accounted for.” He carefully re-rolled the scrolls, and then tucked them inside his tunic.

For a moment, Jeff was confused. They had traveled so far and been through so much for some scrolls? Part of him kept saying that he shouldn't be demanding answers from Tung's oldest friend, but still...

Hanzo seemed to sense this, and so after he had secured the scrolls, he said to the American warrior: “I know it seems like we have been fighting for a small thing, but I assure you: I meant what I said when they are vital to the preservation of the Shiranui clan's legacy.”

Jeff studied Hanzo's eyes for a moment, then gave a nod. “I understand. And I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn earlier when you gave Geese the option of seppuku.”

Hanzo gave a grim nod. “I'm sure that was shocking. But if the other elders of my clan ever learn of this incident, I must be able to tell them that I acted in accordance with their general will, in the same manner that any such insults against us are to be handled.”

Though Jeff didn't say anything, he nodded his understanding. With no further reason to stay in the cave, the two warriors made their way back outside. They emerged to find that Geese Howard was gone, and the rope that held him was in pieces on top of the snow, but there were uncovered tracks leading out of the right edge of the clearing. Jeff and Hanzo followed them until they came to a small cliff overlooking a lake that was covered by a thin sheet of ice. There was a telltale hole in the ice directly below them, indicating that Geese had decided to swim for it.

“There's not much daylight left,” Hanzo said, noting the position of the sun. “He may freeze overnight.”

Jeff shook his head. “I don't think so. He's good at surviving in places like this. The question is: do we go after him?”

“No,” Hanzo answered. “We have what we came for, and I know we each desire to go home. Geese's anger has made him unfocused. If he still plans to carry out his revenge against the Von Stroheims in his current state, he'll be lucky to escape with his life. But that does not concern us.”

“Right,” Jeff said with a nod of agreement. “I would love to go home.”

“If we move quickly,” said Hanzo as he turned around and started back towards the clearing, “We may be able to get out of the forest before sunset.”

“Sounds good,” Jeff said, and started after him, neither one of them casting another look backwards at the glassy lake.

* * *

**Stuttgart, West Germany – December 24 th, 1973**

It was actually about an hour after sunset by the time that they got out of the forest. When they arrived back at the inn, neither one of them was interested in sleeping. So they had gathered their things, checked out, and traveled to the closest International Airport, which was in the city of Stuttgart. Somehow, they had no trouble getting Jeff Bogard a seat on an afternoon flight that was bound for Florida, as they'd had a few cancellations only moments before the two warriors had approached the information kiosk. _And_ it departed on the afternoon of Christmas Eve.

Hanzo and Jeff spent the rest of that morning catching up on their sleep. Now it was time for Jeff Bogard's flight to depart. Hanzo would be stuck at the terminal until the 26th, but he said that he could use that time to inspect the scrolls and make sure their writings were all still intact.

“When you see your master,” Hanzo said to Jeff, as they stood just outside Jeff's gate. “Please tell him that I do not blame him for what happened. There was a blackness infecting the Howard boy's soul long before he came to Tung's doorstep.”

“I'll be sure to tell him,” said Jeff. Then he remarked: “I still can't believe I got this flight so easily. A Christmas miracle, I suppose. I'm glad I'll make it back in time for that.”

“Do you celebrate it?” Hanzo asked him.

“Sort of,” Jeff answered. “We don't decorate the dojo or anything, but I do like to buy gifts for some of the other students. And we make a nice dinner, have some drinks, share stories. It's a good day.”

“I do understand that it is an important time for being with family, or those that have become similar to it. We form many bonds as we move through life, Jeffrey-san. But none are more important than the bonds of family.” He got an odd look on his face, then, as he remembered his own family.

Jeff guessed what he was probably thinking. “I'm sure you'll get home in time, Shiranui-san.”

“Please, you may call me Hanzo,” the elder warrior said, and then bowed his head to Jeff. Jeff Bogard returned the bow, and then offered Hanzo his hand. Hanzo reached out with his own hand, gripping the center of Jeff's forearm in a warrior's handshake, while Jeff did likewise.

After they shook, Hanzo said: “Thank you for your assistance, Jeffrey-san.”

“It was my pleasure, Hanzo,” Jeff said. “And please don't take it the wrong way when I say that hopefully we won't have to do it again sometime.”

Hanzo laughed aloud. “Don't worry, I won't.”

Jeff nodded, and shouldered his bag. “Safe travels,” he said.

“You as well,” Hanzo replied.

Jeff gave him another bow, then turned and entered the gate for his flight. Hanzo waited until he was gone from sight, and then walked in the opposite direction, eager to find a place to sit.

* * *

**Mino, Japan – The Shiranui Dojo – December 28 th, 1973**

The rest of the journey was uneventful. Hanzo was laid over for a while in Hong Kong, but other than that, he had gotten back without incident. After he and Jeff Bogard had parted ways, Hanzo had found a phone and called home, and was relieved to hear that the baby still had not come. He had checked in when he could throughout the rest of his journey, and thankfully that did not change.

Now he was back home again. After greeting his wife and the rest of his family, Hanzo had retired to his study. An ancient looking scroll of parchment was unrolled on his desk, and Hanzo was giving it one final inspection. He was almost finished when he heard a knock on the frame of the fusuma door.

Quickly, the Koppou-Ken master rolled up the scroll and tucked it out of sight, then took off his reading glasses and rose from the chair. “Enter,” he called to the door.

The door slid open, and one of his upperclassmen entered. The boy's face was bright red, indicating he'd recently been outside in the cold. “I just returned from town, Hanzo-sensei,” the boy said to his master. “I purchased the items that you requested when you called from Haneda.”

“They have my exact specifications?”

“Hai, sensei. They are both air and watertight. I left them in the courtyard as you requested. Tadat-sensei is already out there.”

Hanzo gave him a nod. “Domo, Akinori-san. You are dismissed for the evening. If you're hungry and need to get warm after your errand, my wife cooked a large pot of nabeyaki udon. I believe it's still simmering on the stove.”

“Domo, sensei,” his student said with a respectful bow, then turned and left in the direction of the kitchen. After he had left, Hanzo shut the door, gathered up both the scroll he had been studying and its companions, then left the study and made his way outside to the courtyard.

A light snow had begun to fall, but it was not yet sticking to the ground. Two sturdy-looking canisters sat in the center of the courtyard. Next to them stood Hanzo's son, Tadatsugu, who was holding two metal prybars. He said nothing as Hanzo slipped the parchment scrolls into the canisters, sealed them shut, and then checked twice to make sure he had done it properly. It was only after Hanzo was back on his feet that Tadat cleared his throat.

“So that's what you left us to recover?” He asked.

“They are,” Hanzo said simply as he accepted a prybar from his son. The two were silent again for a time, as they set about lifting up one of the heavy stones that cobbled the floor of the courtyard. After they had set the stone aside and were using spades to dig up the hard dirt underneath, Tadat spoke again: “We have lots of books and scrolls, chichi-ue. Why are these so important that we now have to bury them?”

“I want to be sure they are safe this time,” Hanzo explained. “We have not had someone steal from our dojo since my great-grandfather was its master. Perhaps this is why I allowed myself to think that it could not happen under my tenure. So I have to be sure that they are preserved.”

After they had dug up enough dirt, they lowered the canisters into the hole and started using their spades to put the dirt back in. “But why?” Hanzo's son asked him. “You still haven't told me why these are so important.”

“And I'm afraid I cannot,” Hanzo said to Tadatsugu, his gray eyes tinged slightly with regret. “At least, not today. Someday, when it is time for me to step down as the master of this school and you to assume that role; when that day comes, we will dig them back up and you will know everything.”

For a long while, Tadat regarded his father. Then he set down his spade and picked up his prybar again. “I understand,” he said simply, even though this was a half-truth. They set the stone back into place and then Tadat began gathering up their tools.

“Do you know where your wife is?” Hanzo asked him.

“I think she and haha-ue are in the nursery,” Tadat said.

“Domo,” Hanzo said with a nod, then turned and started towards the door back inside. He was halfway there when his son called out to him. Hanzo paused, and turned to face him.

“I'm glad you made it home in time, chichi-ue,” Tadatsugu Shiranui said to his father.

Hanzo smiled at him. “As am I, my boy,” he said. “As am I.”

Hanzo went back inside and made his way to the room that had been converted into a nursery. Inside, he found his wife seated on a large cushion. On the cushion next to her sat a pretty young Japanese woman with large brown eyes, and long reddish-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. A soft pink baby blanket was stretched out in between the two women, and they were putting the finishing touches on it with their respective sewing kits.

As Hanzo entered, both his wife and his daughter-in-law set their needles down and made to stand, as they normally would when the master entered the room. Hanzo, however, shook his head as he raised both hands. “Please, don't get up,” he said. “I'm sure it is hard for you.” That second comment was directed more at the younger woman. The bulge of her pregnant belly was quite prominent, even through the fabric of her kimono.

Kasai Shiranui nodded her head in thanks, and then picked up her needles and continued working. “I'm glad you made it home in time, chichi-ue,” she said to Hanzo.

“Tadat just said the exact same thing,” Hanzo said with a laugh. “And so am I. How are you feeling?”

“Getting a little impatient, honestly,” Kasai said as she shifted her weight slightly. “I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever get to hold my little Mai-chan.”

“I know the feeling,” Hanzo's wife Saiai spoke up. “Tadat-chan was late, too.”

Kasai then gave a little grunt and started slightly, a sight that had become more common in the last few months. Hanzo raised an eyebrow cautiously. “May I?”

Kasai smiled and nodded. “You may.”

The elder Ninjitsu master carefully lowered himself to one knee, and placed a hand flat over the top of Kasai's bulging belly. A second later, he felt a sharp kick, followed quickly by another.

“Mai-chan is anxious to meet us, it seems,” Kasai remarked. “She's been doing that more frequently in the last few days.”

“She has strong legs,” Hanzo said as he got back to his feet. “She'll make a good kunoichi someday.”

Instantly, Kasai's expression darkened a little. “So, you intend to train her when she is old enough?”

“She is of the Shiranui bloodline,” Hanzo said. “And unless you and Tadatsugu have a son, she will someday inherit this dojo. As a clan elder and the master of this school, it is my duty and my obligation to train her in the arts of Shiranui-Ryu Ninjitsu.” His expression then softened a bit. “But I wouldn't worry too much. If her heart is even half as big as her mother's, you have nothing to fear.”

After a minute, Kasai's expression softened as well. “Domo, chichi-ue,” she said.

“It's been a long day for me,” Hanzo told the both of them. “I'll be retiring soon. But you know our clan's physician is on call, in case anything starts to happen. Just alert me if it does.”

“We know,” Saiai said to her husband. “And we will. It's good to have you back, shujin.”

Hanzo gave each of the women a kiss, his daughter-in-law on the forehead and his wife on the lips, then he excused himself from the nursery and made his way towards the kitchen, intending to heat himself a cup of sake before he turned in...

* * *

* * *

Two hours had passed since Hanzo Shiranui had started to tell the story, and Mai had sat there the whole time and listened with the same rapt attention that she'd had when he had started. However, there were a few things Hanzo had left out of the telling, namely the part about burying the scrolls in the courtyard. When he'd gotten to that part in the story, he had simply said that after he'd gotten the stolen property back, he'd put it in a safe place.

Now that he was finished, Hanzo sat back again and took a long drink of water from his glass. As Mai thought back over what she had been told, she found it interesting the way that Hanzo had described Jeff Bogard. There were characteristics he seemed to have in common with both Andy and Terry. He had shared Andy's quickness to anger over the disrespectful actions of others, he sounded like he'd shared Terry's appetite for food, and he'd shared both brothers' strong sense of honor, and desire for justice. She wondered how many of these traits the Bogard boys had picked up from their father, and how many they had already possessed, which could have been why Jeff felt a sort of connection with them, making him want to take them in...

“One of my regrets in life,” said Hanzo, his voice taking on a rare sentimental tone, which Mai did not hear in him very often. “Is that I did not keep in touch with Jeffrey-san as much as I would have liked. Whenever I spoke to Tung, I would always ask him how his apprentice was doing. And I would send Jeffrey-san a card for the Christmas holiday. But I feel like I should have made more of an effort to communicate with him. If I had, our mutual respect for each other might have grown into friendship.”

“Is that another reason you agreed to train Andy?” Mai asked her grandfather.

The old master's brow creased for a moment, then he gave a small shrug. “Maybe. But whatever my reasons, I'm glad I took the boy in.”

“So am I, Ojisama, “ Mai said with a small smile. “I just have one more question: did Tou-chan ever find out what was written in those scrolls?”

Hanzo shook his head, the sentimental look in his eyes becoming stronger. “Sadly, no. He and Kasai-chan were involved in that accident before I felt it was time for me to step down as master. Another of my great regrets in life.” Then the look was gone, replaced by his old stoic countenance. “Which means that someday, after I have gone to what I hope is a well-deserved rest, the responsibility of preserving them will pass to you, Mai-chan.”

Mai was silent for a moment. She had come to terms with the fact that her grandfather was not the man he used to be, and that he had far fewer years ahead of him than he did behind. But, still... it was not something she liked to think about. So she changed the subject. “The time's gotten away from us, Ojisama,” she said. “I have to wash the dishes, and then get in some practice and think about what I'm going to make for dinner.” She started to put all the empty dishes from lunch back on the tray.

Hanzo gave a brief nod. “I think I'll finish my work inside,” he said. “It's getting a little warm out here.”

Mai helped her grandfather to his feet, and then picked up his walking stick and handed it to him. “I'll bring your letters into you, Ojisama,” she said.

“Domo, Mai-chan,” Hanzo answered. “I'll be in my study.”

Mai leaned in and kissed her grandfather on the cheek. “Thank you for the story,” she said.

“It was my pleasure,” said Hanzo, and then started across the yard back towards the dojo. Mai watched him for a moment, and then gathered up everything and made her way back inside as well...

 

**THE END**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since they like having their ego stoked, I do want to give a shout-out to fellow fic writer RenkonNairu. In one of their FF/KoF fics that I read, I saw that Mai's father and grandfather both used fans. Which was my inspiration for Hanzo using fans in my own fic.
> 
> To find out more about what Geese Howard stole from Hanzo, and why Hanzo was so eager to get it back, check out the ending to my Fatal Fury 4 fic, “The Vengeful Spirits.”
> 
> And speaking of which, thank you JojoDO for reviewing every chapter of that story. I feel accomplished now.
> 
> There is a bit of a historical inaccuracy in this. Tadatsugu and Kasai know that they're having a girl, but according to what I've researched, ultrasound technology didn't reach a point where the baby's gender could be accurately predicted until the late 1970s or early 1980s. So given when the story takes place, they shouldn't be able to know they're having a girl. But this is fanfic, so I don't care.
> 
> And most of you probably already know this, but the SNK wiki lists Mai's birthday as January 1st, 1974. Her being a late baby is just something I came up with on my own. It's also another head canon of mine that Mai lost her parents in a car accident a year or two before Andy came to live with them, which is what Hanzo was referencing.
> 
> Well, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed reading. Until next time...

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue of this story, as you might have known, takes place not long after the end of the “Fatal Fury 2” anime. I chose August 1st, 1993 as the date because according to my research, the “Fatal Fury 2” OVA first aired on TV in Japan in July 1993. 
> 
> Speaking of 1993, check out the lyrics to the Cranberries song “Linger” if you get a chance. It was released as a single in February 1993, and I like to think it's on the list of songs Mai would sing when she's in a good mood and also thinking about Andy. And she knows the words to the song because it's a head-canon of mine that when Mai was growing up, she learned to speak English on her own, in her free time, hoping it would impress Andy.
> 
> As you may have guessed, the ornamental hairpin being worn by Mai's grandmother is the exact same one we see Mai wear in the Fatal Fury and KoF series. I decided it was made of whalebone because in my other stories, I've hinted that Mai's grandmother grew up in a fishing village somewhere on Japan's east coast.
> 
> From what I've read, there is no Stroheim, Germany. But South Town doesn't exist, either, and fictional universes make up fake cities and towns all the time. As the FF2 OVA never said where in Germany it was, I placed Stroheim's location on the coast of the North Sea, because when Mai and Andy fight Laurence Blood in the OVA, they appear to be close to a large body of water. And the closest airport to the North Sea coast is the one in Hamburg, which is why that's where the fates were kind enough to let Hanzo and Jeff land.
> 
> And for those reading who are too young to remember the Cold War, Germany was divided until 1989, hence my reason for describing Hanzo and Jeff's destination as “West Germany.” And also it was back before the Euro, hence their reason for carrying Deustchmarks.
> 
> As always, feel free to post a review. Hopefully, the next chapter won't take TOO long. But I'm not good at writing fight scenes, and I want the fight between Jeff, Hanzo, and Rudolph to be the best fight scene I've ever written. So I'll post it when I'm happy with it.


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